AUG 30 — I officially resigned from my teaching position on the eve of National Day in 2012. While it was not an easy decision to make, I felt it was the best, considering I was making some major changes in my life and to stay and teach in Malaysia was no longer possible.
There was a feeling of elation, a celebration of sorts — I was finally merdeka from all the crazy paperwork! — but at the same time, I felt very sad about leaving. I knew I would miss my time in the classroom with my pupils, that I would miss helping them discover new knowledge and all the fun we had learning new things together.
I was, however, not sad to leave some of the school culture which I felt had no place in school at all. The Islamisation of schools of late has effectively made some members of the school community feel ostracised and persecuted.
The last school I taught at had a very small number of non-Malay teachers. Most of them were English teachers and being one myself, I got along with them very well and we were able to work together to carry out the necessary tasks for our department.
Not only that, I also had no problem with the fact that they are non-Malays and practise different lifestyles. Why should I? They were well within their rights to do so. After all, we are all Malaysians.
Sadly, this sentiment was not shared by some members of the staff.
One Friday morning, Ms H came storming into the canteen and promptly sat herself at the table where Ms C and I were having our breakfast. She had a pretty dress on and I complimented her. She rolled her eyes and told me some of the female teachers just told her off for wearing it.
“Eh, why? The skirt is below the knee. I don’t think it’s that short,” I said.
“Oh, because it’s Friday and wearing a skirt on a Friday is disrespectful to the Muslims. Plus, they said I’m helping the Muslim male teachers sin more because they look at my legs,” she said, obviously angry at such a comment.
I was speechless when I heard that.
“Well, as a Muslim, let me tell you, honey, I’m not offended,” I told her, feeling that the whole incident had been blown out of proportion by the other teachers.
I saw nothing wrong with her wearing a skirt on a Friday. She was after all not a Muslim and, therefore, not bound by the rules that the Muslim teachers at the school had to adhere to when it came to choices of work attire.
Also, if the male teachers chose to ogle, then the onus should be on them and not her. After all, didn’t God also give them the ability to look away if they see something they deem as offensive?
I totally disagree with trying to shove one’s culture and traditions down another’s throat. This whole notion of trying to make others conform to your own beliefs is not only absurd but also unfair.
I guess they forgot what was said in the Quran in verse 6, chapter 106: “To you, be your religion, and to me my religion (Islamic monotheism)." Whatever happened to living harmoniously together, being the multi-religious, multi-cultural country that Malaysia is?
Sadly, that was not an isolated incident. There were many more similar ones throughout the few years I taught there. It got to the point I hated going to work as some of the female teachers tried to bully me into wearing a headscarf to work, as I was the only Muslim teacher who chose not to wear one.
They said by not wearing one, I was not being a good example to the Muslim pupils.
Oh-kayyy.
When Ms C had her son’s first birthday party, she invited me to come, so I did. There were other Malay guests there but I was the only Malay teacher from the school who was invited. Perplexed, I asked her why that was so.
She told me that every time she had a celebration of sorts at her house, she would make sure the food was catered from a Malay so the Malay guests would not be worried about the halal-ness of the food provided.
Sadly that was not enough for the Malay teachers at school. They would not even touch any food she brought to school, despite her going the extra mile and making sure they came from a halal source.
After years of trying, she gave up.
“Too much effort and they never cared to invite me to their houses anyway,” she said.
As we approach our nation’s 56th birthday, are we as a nation truly "merdeka"? We keep talking about how the West will corrupt the minds of our younger generations, but I honestly feel we should instead look at ourselves and wonder if we ourselves are not the agents of that.
Many a time I would come across my pupils arguing about who is more of a Muslim, even at the tender age of seven. A little Muslim girl in one of my classes who chose to wear a pinafore to school was jeered at and made fun of to the point she ran out of the class crying, because the other children told her she would go to hell for showing her legs.
I do not blame the children for the way they act, because they learn from watching the people around them. When they see the adults in their lives behave in such a way, believe me, they too will grow into hateful individuals who think it is their job to judge and say who goes to heaven and who does not.
Why are we not teaching our children to be compassionate and understanding instead of judgmental? Why are we not teaching our children to accept that Malaysia is made up of people with various religious beliefs and practices and that all of us, even if we do not look like each other, are Malaysians? We should teach them to love and like one another instead of judge and persecute one another.
Perhaps we should look at the history of our nation and learn from our ancestors. After all, they did something right by working hand in hand to successfully gain independence for our beloved country.
* The writer wishes Malaysians all over the world a Selamat Hari Merdeka. August 31, 2013 is also Labor Day in the US, and she hopes she will not go into labour that same day!
* This is the personal opinion of the columnist.
