My term as prefect has ended forever, and, truth be told, I am miserable.
It's been a grueling nine years, for sure. (Nine years -- that's more than half of my lifetime!) However, I have never and will never regret my decision to join the prefectorial board. There's so much I've gained from it that I probably wouldn't have been able to get from anywhere else -- experiences, friends, people skills, memories, and so much more. Brace yourself for a corny upchuck of memories, now.
Very few people know this about me, but before I was in SK Taman SEA (hereafter known as SKTS), I schooled in SK Damansara Jaya (2). If you were from there and don't remember me, you'd be forgiven, since I changed schools in like July or something. Anyway, I remember being terrified of the prefects. They wore maroon vests and marched up and down the lines of students, reprimanding anyone who dared stick a toe out of line, literally. I was once told off by an older boy in maroon for running in the rain. The memory of his stern ten-year-old face still sends a chill down my spine.
(From The Ominous Comma.)
Then I switched schools to SKTS. The prefects wore blue shirts, but no vests. These prefects too were very strict, and did their duty well. For the longest of times, I thought prefects didn't laugh. No, really. I thought they were some weird sort of breed of human, almost robotic, that did their duty impeccably without ever cracking a smile. The first time I saw a prefect laugh, I actually stared. The girl was a prefect! What did she think she was doing, laughing like that?
In time, I came to realise that prefects were human, just like my friends and I were. They had friends, homework, and, most importantly, the ability to smile and laugh. When I was in Standard Three, I was selected to be a prefect, much to my delight. It took a bit of a battle in order to get my parents' consent (they thought I was too young), but I won out in the end. I went through Standards Three to Six clad in the girls' prefect uniform which consisted of a light blue short-sleeved shirt and a dark blue skirt. It was a great experience, peppered with politics though it was towards the end of my term.
When secondary school rolled around, I had to get those blue pinafores. Trying one on for size in the fitting room of some uniform shop, I held the garment at arm's length, turning it every which way. After a bit of pointless staring, I exited the fitting room and went to my mother for help; having not worn a pinafore since the beginning of Standard Three, I had, unfortunately, forgotten how to put it on.
I started off secondary school feeling weird in a weird environment clad in a weird blouse and pinafore. Then came the announcement that prefect interviews were going to be held, and I jumped at the chance to make things a little less weird for myself. I sat at a desk across from Mr. Samy at what used to be the Anjung Bakti (it is now the multipurpose court) and gave it all I got, and the rest, I suppose, is history.
Taking you through my journey from warden to probationer to prefect to Form Three Counsellor to Assistant Records and Statistics Officer to Discipline Officer 1 would be far too tedious and boring for everyone but me, so I shall refrain. It feels good to look back on it all, you know; I've come a long way from the awkward probie I used to be. In fact, just last year, I got to see my evaluation form from when I was still a probie, Nur Fatin's junior. She stated that I was quiet and not strict, and deemed me unsuitable to be selected as a prefect. I showed some of my friends, and we had a good laugh at that.
We're trying to have some fun by kacau-ing the juniors, but, you know, I'm too busy sadfacing to be cheeky. I come to school early in the morning and don't know what to do with myself. No more prefects room, no more flurry of everyone putting their blazers on as JJ and I tell them to, no more doing rounds; I plonk myself on the ground in between Kent and a sleepy Alvyn and watch the prefects balefully. Today, when Sarah arrived at school and saw my sorry, pining self, she went, "Aiyo, Hui Jan! Don't la, you look so sad!" I'm not sure as to whether by 'sad', she meant 'unhappy' or 'pathetic', but I would hazard a guess at both. Both would've been accurate, anyway.
(From Everyday Estate Planning.)
I'm guessing this is a lot like how retirees feel right after they stop work. I FEEL LIKE A USELESS BUM. ):
Khairul, our former Head Prefect, summed it up the best:
I just lost my only reason for coming to school...after we finish the syllabus.
Because I don't know how to end this post in a way that isn't horribly corny or depressing, I shall now leave you with some photos off Facebook. Credits to Bob, Awis, and Rachael, respectively.
SPM results day 2010
Prefects jamuan 2009
Sports Day 2009
P.S. If you remember the awesome, epic 2008 prefects camp (the one where we had that theme song: WHOA WHOA YEAH YEAH!), please leave a comment so I know I'm not the only loser reminiscing about it.
P.P.S. Prefectorial board, I miss you crazy tons.