To feel good

OVERESTIMATING MYSELF
A lot more people volunteer here than in Singapore. A lot, a lot more. I have always wanted to volunteer but am just too lazy/uncommitted/tired. Basically, I would just procrastinate using whatever excuse I could think of. So, when there were opportunities here provided by out student union, I jumped at them. Firstly, I have a structured timetable. I know when I’ll be free. Secondly, I could commit almost a whole year. And thirdly, the student union has a volunteer officer – she does nothing except take care of student volunteering. I am assured the programme is well-take care of. Besides, all the programme have some sort of training course given by the charity/social service agency.

There were two I signed up for. In the end, I chickened out of one because I overestimated how brave I am. I’m just plain chicken.

INMATES
Inmates is a volunteer programme run by Goldsmiths which won some national social service award a year or two ago. To put it simply, it arranges regular visits to the inmates in prison. Why not? I thought. It’s just twice a month. One hour or so per visit. And it will be good experience because it’s something people don’t normally do. It’s just having a conversation, right? Of course, the Mother Theresa in me feel that loneliness can be suffocating to some and that my conversation would somehow soften the suffocation.

Then, my fertile imagination got the better of me. First, I saw images from the movie, “Dead Man Walking”. What if I met a Sean Penn who’s a rapist and murderer and on death row? I am no Susan Sarandon whose character is a nun. I am no nun. I am not so forgiving. What if I don’t ask but he (assuming it’s a he because it’s easier to scare myself with) volunteers all the information of his deeds? What if… he does not tell me what crime he has committed but I imagine it anyway. Just like Susan Sarandon, I would imagine scenes where he is robbing/ killing/raping/ selling drugs/cheating money etc… I am sure I would have the choice to walk out of the situation. But why put myself through it in the first place? What if he came out of prison and decided to come to Goldsmiths to look for me? What if he’s from up north and I have no idea what he’s saying? What if he talks nonsense? What if he sees me and decides not to talk?

I’ve visited Changi before. Think I went with my students. It’s this crime prevention programme. Cannot recall the details but we went to see the cells, the room where prisoners are whipped, the work area and so on. Frankly, I think it’s to scare students so that they would think twice before doing something which might land them inside. When I saw the prisoners working, I kept imagining them before they ended in prison. Think the prison officer who brought us round mentioned something about how either the nature of the crime (criminal or corporate etc) or the sentence (those on death row for eg) can be identified by the colour of the collar of the shirt (or is it the colour of the shorts??). So, I looked at the different colours and just put my imagination to the most horrible use.

I might do the same again if I became a volunteer. Oh dear, the imagination can be rather frightening. In the end, I did not even turn up for the training.


READABILITY
Then, there is the easy option. Something I am sure I would have less trouble with. It’s called the readability programme. Volunteers either go to the library or a school and read to a kid. Just ONE kid and he/she is below 12. The child is chosen by the school and usually, the kid’s disadvantaged in some way. Some may be dyslexic. Some may come from non-native families. Some may come from such big families that they are lucky their parents remember to feed them. It’s just one hour a week and I think it’s a great chance to make a difference to just ONE kid. The books are provided and all we have to do is turn up.

I went for the first training session yesterday and it’s interesting how the people who volunteered are somewhat alike. There was a mixture of undergrads and postgrads. There were two who were in their forties. But the general crowd was very “teacherly”, the very “maternal”, very “I-want-to-improve-someone’s-life” sort.

VOLUNTEERING AND TEACHING
I think I am far from Mother Theresa in the making though. For me, I feel good when I think I’ve made a difference. There is this selfish instinct of wanting to feel good. The same goes for being a teacher. It’s satisfying when I know I have been a part (hopefully a good part) of my students’ lives. I think this sense of satisfaction is addictive and essentially selfish. It’s gaining a sense of control, isn’t it? Shaping someone’s lives is like controlling them. In actual fact, true education allows students to shape their own lives, we don’t shape them.

I told Gabriel (my flatmate) about the Readability programme the other day and he said, “It’s up your alley, isn’t it? You like to teach.” To his horror, I responded, “No, I am a CONTROL freak. When people listen to me. I feel good. You’ve got classes of students in your control everyday. AT MY MERCY. Haha. I LOVE IT!”

So there. I volunteer out of selfish reasons too. CONTROLLLLLL…

WHAT DO YOU WEAR TO BED?
Listening to Clive Bull on radio now. His questions for the night
1) What do you wear to bed?
2) What do you think of car alarms?
3) Who are you voting for “I’m a Celebrity” ( a reality show here)?

Many people here go to bed naked. I’m surprised not because I find them particularly liberal but because I am amazed that they can keep warm. Maybe the heating in their room’s really good. And maybe their duvet’s extra thick. For my hall of residence at Goldsmiths, something strange happens. We can turn on the heater in the day. But the mains are turned off automatically from 10pm or 11pm at night! So, when the weather is at its coldest in the wee hours of the morning, we have no heater. One of us (think it’s either Sara or Gabriel) asked the accommodation office once why we could not have heater at night. The answer was, “You are supposed to be warm in bed already.” HUH?

I don’t feel particularly freezing cold but I wear my usual T-shirt and a jacket, track pants, socks AND then cover myself with the duvet. Now, that’s nice and warm.

Back to the radio programme. Those who DO wear something to bed do just in case someone breaks into the house or when there’s a fire. Not because they want to keep warm.