Write On 3 THINGS YOU DO NOT KNOW ABOUT YOUR TEACHERS.

ISSUE 21, TERM 1 2015        3.  Even  teachers  have  our  teachers.  There  are  close  to  a  hundred  teachers  in  Bukit  Batok  Secondary  School.  I  can  assure  you  that  each  one  of  us  has  at  least  one  teacher  that  we  deeply  respect  and  admire.  No  ma;er  how  well  we  research  our  subjects  or  prepare  our  lessons,  we  s?ll  (consciously  or  unconsciously)  think  about  how  ‘Mr  or  Mrs  So-­‐and-­‐So’  would  have  done  it  be;er.    There  are  and  will  always  be  teachers  who  are  be;er  at  discipline,  classroom  management,  subject-­‐related  exper?se  and  mastery  or  even  work/life  balance.  No  ma;er  how  experienced  or  expert  we  become,  there  will  always  be  at  least  one  other  teacher  who  we  feel  is  so  much  be;er  than  we  are.    We  oKen  go  to  them  for  advice.  Some?mes,  it  is  through  the  official  programmes  that  the  school  sets  up  for  us;  where  older  teachers  guide  younger  ones  along.  Very  oKen  however,  we  just  have  our  heart  to  heart  talks  in  the  canteen,  library  or  aKer  hours  at  a  coffee  shop.  Some  of  our  trusted  ‘Teaching  idols’  are  indeed  older  and  wiser.  Some?mes,  it  happens  that  fresh  graduate  teachers  have  ?ps,  tricks  and  incredibly  helpful  advice  too.  Everyone  benefits  from  humble  aRtudes  and  a  willingness  to  learn  from  others!  Just  as  there  is  more  to  you  than  your  teachers  see  in  school,  you  must  keep  an  open  mind  about  your  teachers  too.  We  might  not  be  as  perfect  as  we  want  to  be,  but  we  are  a  lot  more  interes?ng  than  you  think  we  are.  Have  a  great  day.  

In  between  marking  papers  and  seRng  examina?ons,  teachers  keep  themselves  awake  at  night  by  worrying  about  how  to  help  certain  students  in  their  classes.  Married  teachers  experience  slightly  less  sleep  because  of  our  familial  responsibili?es.  Married  teachers  with  young  children  are  even  worse  off.  What  does  this  mean?      Teachers  account  for  more  sales  of  coffee  than  you  know.  If  not  for  caffeine  and  iron-­‐strong  wills,  there  would  far  more  grouchy  teachers  in  your  class  than  you  know!    Every  ?me  we  see  students  sleeping  in  class,  we  wonder  about  whether  you  stayed  up  working  on  your  homework  or  if  you  were  online  gaming  in  the  early  hours.  Whatever  the  case  is,  try  not  to  complain  that  we  do  not  empathise  because  however  li;le  rest  you  get,  we  get  even  less!  

1.  We  sleep  a  lot  less  than  you  do.    

Many  students  are  rudely  awakened  by  the  alarm  clock  in  the  wee  hours  of  the  morning.  They  have  to  call  on  all  their  strength  to  get  out  of  bed  and  to  school.  Yet,  once  students  are  in  school,  something  strange  happens.      Why  is  it  that  when  the  bell  for  the  last  lesson  has  gone,  so  many  students  s?ll  find  some  excuse  or  other  to  linger  in  school?  They  can  return  home  or  go  out  with  their  friends  but  they  choose  to  stay  in  school.  It  seems  strange,  does  it  not?      Have  you  no?ced  how  many  teachers  remain  aKer  school  hours?  I  can  assure  you  that  not  all  of  us  are  seRng  papers  or  mee?ng  parents.  We  somehow  find  ourselves  remaining  in  school  because  we  feel  like  there  is  more  that  we  could  do  for  our  students;  even  when  there  are  very  few  students  leK  in  school.  We  are  always  hoping  that  one  of  you  would  approach  us  for  consulta?on  or  to  discuss  how  to  improve  in  our  subject.  

2.  We  share  a  peculiar  behaviour  with  our  students.    

3 THINGS YOU DO NOT KNOW ABOUT YOUR TEACHERS.

There  are  close  to  a  hundred  teachers  in  Bukit  Batok  Secondary  School.    I  can  assure  you  that  each  teacher  has  at  least  one  other  teacher  that  we  deeply  respect  and  admire.  No  ma;er  how  well  we  research  our  subjects  or  prepare  our  lessons,  we  s?ll  (consciously  or  unconsciously)  think  about  how  ‘Mr  or  Mrs  So-­‐and-­‐So’  would  have  done  it  be;er.    There  are  and  will  always  be  teachers  who  are  be;er  at  discipline,  classroom  management,  subject-­‐related  exper?se  and  mastery  or  even  work/life  balance.  No  ma;er  how  experienced  or  expert  we  become,  there  will  always  be  at  least  one  other  teacher  who  we  feel  is  so  much  be;er  than  we  are.      We  oKen  go  to  them  for  advice.  Some?mes,  it  is  through  the  official  programmes  that  the  school  sets  up  for  us;  where  older  teachers  guide  younger  ones  along.  Very  oKen  however,  we  just  have  our  heart  to  heart  talks  in  the  canteen,  library  or  aKer  hours  at  a  coffee  shop.  Some  of  our  trusted  ‘Teaching  idols’  are  indeed  older  and  wiser.  Some?mes,  it  happens  that  fresh  graduate  teachers  have  ?ps,  tricks  and  incredibly  helpful  advice  too.  Everyone  benefits  from  humble  aRtudes  and  a  willingness  to  learn  from  others!    Just  as  there  is  more  to  you  than  your  teachers  see  in  school,  you  must  keep  an  open  mind  about  your  teachers  too.  We  might  not  be  as  perfect  as  we  want  to  be,  but  we  are  a  lot  more  interes?ng  than  you  think.    Have  a  great  day.  

3.  Even  teachers  have  our  teachers.  

ABANDONED “Don’t   leave   me   here!”   I   could   vividly   hear  myself  wailing,  hands  outstretched,  trying  to  will  the   two   fading   silhoue;es   before   me   to   come  back.    “Don’t…  abandon…  me…”    I   sat   up   on   my   rickety   bed,   sobbing   and  hiccupping,   hot   tears   flowing   down  my   cheeks.  The  room  I  was  plunged  into  total  darkness,  save  for   a   few   streaks   of   moonlight   penetra?ng   the  lone,   grimy   window   stuck   to   one   of   the  whitewashed  walls.  The  room  was  filled  with  the  cacophony   of   snoring   children,   all   around   my  age,   sleeping   on   iden?cal   bunk   beds   that  seemed   ready   to   collapse   any   ?me.   This   place  was  a  living  hellhole,  I  thought,  staring  in  disgust  at   everything   in   the  ?ny,   claustrophobic   room   I  was   in.   It   is   all   right,   though.   I   just   have   to  endure   this   for   a  while   longer,   and  my   parents  would  come  back   to   retrieve  me   from  this   fe?d  mess  of  an  orphanage.    I  used  to  live  in  a  huge  mansion  with  Daddy  and  Mummy.   Gardens   flanked   the   building’s   sides,  filled   with   rows   of   mul?-­‐coloured,   vibrant  flowers;  all  of  which  Mummy  had  flown  in  from  all  sorts  of  exo?c  countries.  There  were  servants  and  butlers  to  cater  to  my  every  whim,  and  I  had  a  governess  to  educate  me  thrice  a  week.  Daddy  oKen   came   back   home   late,   and   according   to  Mummy,   it   was   because   he   was   a   business  tycoon.  Every  weekend,  my  parents  and  I  would  go   out   to   the   city,   which   was   a   short   distance  away  from  our  home,  and  we  would  have  fun  for  the   en?re   day.   I   s?ll   remember   the   smiles   on  their  faces  then.    

   

I   am   not   sure  when   everything   began   to   go  downhill.   I   had   only   begun   to   realise   that  something   was   slightly   off   when   Daddy   had  told   me   that   my   governess   would   not   be  coming  in  to  teach  me  anymore.  Whenever  I  asked   either   of   my   parents   what   was   going  on,  they  would  tell  me  not  to  worry.    One  morning,  Mummy   came   into  my   room,  eyes   red-­‐rimmed,   a   strained   frown   marring  her   delicate   features,   and   handed   me   a  luggage   case.   She   told   me   to   pack   some  clothes  and  my  favourite  items.  I  followed  her  instruc?ons   like   a   lamb,   not   bothering   to  ques?on   why   I   had   to   do   so.   I   trusted  Mummy   implicitly.   Mummy   loaded   my   case  into   our   limousine   –   the   only   one   leK-­‐   and  drove  off.    Never   had   I   expected   our   des?na?on   to   be  the  orphanage.  That  was  when  all  the  nightly  discussions  about  me  began  to  make  sense.    “No,  Mummy!”   I   had   screeched,   as  Mummy  forcefully   dragged   me   into   the   shambling  building   full   of   s?nking   children   and   yelling  caretakers;   a   far   cry   from   the   home   I   knew.  Once  we  were   in  the  building,  Mummy  knelt  in  front  of  me,  tears  forming  in  her  eyes,  and  said  that  I  would  only  have  to  stay  in  here  for  a  while.  She  and  Daddy  would  come  back   to  take  me  home,  they  would  not  abandon  me.    They   would   not   abandon   me   to   fend   for  myself,  would  they?    

-­‐  Beryl  Tan  (3S1)  

UNWANTED I  began  life  in  one  of  the  countless  back  alleys  in  China.   Born   to   a   mother   of   three   girls,   my  mother  took  one  look  at  me  and  ordered  for  me  to   be   sent   away.  Hours   later,   I  would   be   found  on   the   doorsteps   of   the   province’s   only  orphanage  of  girls,  in  a  ra;an  basket  with  only  a  thin  piece  of  cloth  to  protect  my  ?ny  body  from  the  elements.    The  orphanage  was  overcrowded,  and  food  was  scarce.  There  was  never  enough  to  fill  our  hollow  bellies  and  I  suffered  terribly  from  hunger  pangs.  I  shared  a  room  with  twenty  other  girls;  all  of  us  crammed  onto  bug-­‐ridden  ma;resses  or  on   the  floor.   My   clothes   were   hand-­‐me-­‐downs   from  what   seemed   like   thirty   years   ago;   just   enough  pieces   of   cloth   s?tched   together   to   protect  my  modesty.   One   could   only   image   how   thrilled   I  was  when  I  heard  that  a  couple  had  adopted  me,  and  I  could  finally  leave  the  orphanage  and  start  life  anew.    My   foster   parents   picked   me   up   from   the  orphanage,  with  promises  of  new  clothes,   good  food   and   a   warm   bed.   They   told   me   that   they  were   looking   forward   to   taking   care   of  me   and  even  said  that  they  would  send  me  to  school!  At  that   ?me,   only   girls   from   wealthy   families  received  schooling.   I  was  over  the  moon  when  I  heard  that.    In   the   beginning,   my   new   parents   kept   their  word.   I   enjoyed   delicacies   at   every   meal,   wore  brand-­‐new   clothes   and   slept   in   my   own   bed.   I  went  to  a  public  school  and  made  many  friends.  That  was  when  the  first  signs  of  trouble  began.    I   came   home   from   school   one   day   to   find   my  foster  parents  in  a  foul  mood.  I  soon  learned  that  both   of   them   had   lost   their   jobs,   but   they  assured   me   that   I   could   s?ll   go   to   school   and  everything   would   stay   the   same.   I   gave   no  further  thought  to  it  then.      

   

The  next  day,  they  brought  me  into  the  forest  for   a   picnic.   I   thought   it   was   strange,   but   I  enjoyed   myself   tremendously,   and   when   I  was  presented  with  a  storybook,  I  jumped  for  joy.   My   foster   parents   smiled   at   me   as   I  thanked  them  profusely.    “Why   don’t   you   start   reading   it   now?   Your  mother   and   I  will   pack   up   the   picnic   items,”  my   father   suggested.   I   agreed  and   soon  was  swept   away   by   a   richly-­‐woven   tale   of   a  faraway   land.   Before   I   knew   it,   night   had  fallen   and   my   parents   were   nowhere   to   be  seen.   Trees   loomed   over   me   menacingly,  branches  swaying   in  the  wind,  as   if   it  were  a  monster  about   to  gobble  me  up.   I   screamed  myself   hoarse   looking   for   them,   trying   to  ignore   the   growing   seed   of   doubt   in   me.   I  wandered  in  the  forest  for  many  days,  hoping  fervently   that   I   would   find   my   parents.  Finally,  weak  from  hunger,  I  lay  down  under  a  tree   and   looked   up   at   the   twinkling   stars   in  the  vast  night  sky.      Would  my  foster  parents  be  somewhere  else,  looking   up   at   the   stars   too?   I   sighed   and  closed  my  eyes,  hoping   that   if   I  wished  hard  enough,   they  would   appear   right   before  me  and  take  me  home.    

-­‐  Phoebe  Chew  (3A1)  

MLA 2015: SECONDARY THREE My   name   is   Nina   Rochelle,   Class   President   of  3N3  and   I  will  be  wri?ng  about  this  year's  Mul?  Level   Ac?vi?es   Camp   (MLA)   for   Secondary   3's.  This  camp  was  held  in  Tanjung  Piai,  Malaysia  and  happened   in   the   third   week   of   January.   Before  going  to  this  camp,  many  of  the  senior  BBSSians  who   had   a;ended   this   camp   gave   glowing  reviews  about  how  the  camp  matured  them  and  taught  them  many  things  about  their  classmates.  Listening   to   all   of   the   good   feedback,   I   was  extremely   excited   to   finally   experience   it.   Also,  my   English   teacher,   Mr   Christopher   Thong  recommended  that  everyone  go.  He  said  that  we  would   learn   more   about   each   other   and   make  new  friends.  He  also  men?oned  to  go  absolutely  insane   and   to   banish   our   self-­‐consciousness,  especially  during  campfire  so   that  we  could  win  the  Best  Class  in  camp.    During  the  camp,  we  had  so  many  great  ac?vi?es  lined  up  for  us.  There  were  both  land  and  water  ac?vi?es.   We   experienced   RaK   Building,  Paintball,   Coconut   Tree   Climbing   and   Broken  Bridge.   My   favourite   part   of   camp   was   the  Campfire.  We  were  told  to  create  our  own  item  and  perform  it  in  front  of  the  whole  Secondary  3  cohort,   teachers   and   the   camp   instructors.   3N3  simply   created   our   own   cheer   performed   it.  Campfire   was   so   fun   as   everyone   got   into   the  spirit  of  things  and  threw  aside  their  insecuri?es.  All  the  Secondary  3  classes,  instructors  and  even  our  teachers  cheered  and  danced!      On  the  second  day,  we  went  to  a  school  that  had  mentally   disabled   youths   and  we   played   games  with  them.  We  learned  the  Malaysian  version  of  Rock,   Papers   and   Scissors   which   was  'Air,Batu,Burung'.  We  all  bonded  with  the  youths  at   the   school   even   though   there   was   a   huge  language   barrier;   as   us   Singaporeans   mainly  speak  English  and  they  only  spoke  Malay.          

   

In   my   opinion,   the  MLA   Camp   was   amazing  and  the  only  thing  I  would  wish  for  was  for  it  to  be  longer  so  that  we  could  have  even  more  fun.  Other  than  that,  I  am  extremely  sa?sfied  with  this  year's  camp.  For  the  future  cohorts,  I  would  really  recommend  for  everyone  to  go  even  though  it  may  seem  out  of  your  normal  experience.  The  camp  definitely  taught  me  to  be   a   be;er   leader,   have   some   self-­‐discipline  and  be  my  best.   As   for  my   class,  we  had   an  amazing  ?me  and  bonded  quite  a  lot  in  just  3  days.      I  am  extremely  proud  of  my  class  as  we  won  ‘Best   Class’   in   camp,   sharing   the   ?tle   with  3T1.  Last  year,  I  dreaded  the  thought  of  being  in  3N3  because   I  was  not   familiar  with  some  of   the  people   inside   it.   Through   this   camp,   I  changed  my   opinion   of   the   people   who   are  now  my  dear  classmates  and  I  have  grown  to  love  them  (even  if  they  are  occasionally  s?ll  a  li;le  annoying!).  My  class  is  s?ll  as  bonded  as  ever.   I   am   thankful   for   my   classmates   as   it  would   have   been   an   extremely   different  experience   if   it  was  not   them.   I   am   thankful  for  the  teachers  who  made  the  camp  possible  as  if  it  were  not  for  them,  my  class  would  not  have  our  current  special  connec?on.    All  in  all,  it  was  an  awesome  experience  and  I  strongly  urge  the  future  cohorts  to  sign  up  for  the  MLA  camp.    

-­‐  Nina  Rochelle    (3N3)  

HABITS OF MIND: USE ALL YOUR SENSES. Most   people   misunderstand   the   HOM   of  ‘Gathering   Data   through   All   Your   Senses’.   They  wonder   about   how   to   use   their   sense   of   smell,  touch  and  hearing  more.  Or   they   roll   their  eyes  and  laugh  about  how  impossible  it  is  to  call  their  sense   of   smell   into   play   when   studying   a   new  chapter  on  Literature.      You  have  not  grasped  the  obvious.      Believe  it  or  not,  you  use  almost  ALL  your  senses  in   every   ac?on   you   execute   and   decision   you  make.  Think  about  it.      When   your   teacher   enters   the   room,   you   are  already   assessing   her   mood   through   the   many  visual  and  auditory  (sound)  cues  he  or  she  gives  off.   Is   he   or   she   upset   or   aggravated?   How   do  they   sound?   Do   you   behave   yourself   a   li;le  be;er  if  you  hear  their  voice  contain  an  edge  of  anger  at  the  beginning  of  the  lesson?    Have  you  ever  suddenly  realised  that  you  should  pack   your   umbrella   because   you   smelled   that   a  storm   was   coming   in?   Rain   produces   an  atmospheric   chemical   reac?on   that   all   humans  can  smell,  whether  they  realise  it  or  not.          

   

Before   puRng   that   spoonful   of   soup   into  your   mouth,   do   you   unconsciously   feel   for  the  temperature  of  the  spoon  with  your  lips?      See?  You  may  not  be  using  all  of  your  senses  to  gather  informa?on  at  all  ?mes,  but  you  do  use  them  more  than  you  know.  The  trick  is  to  pay   more   a;en?on   to   them   when   they   are  trying  to  reveal  something  to  you.      L ea rn   more   f r om   each   l e s son   by  understanding   that   you   may   need   to   move  further  forward  if  you  cannot  clearly  listen  to  what  the  teacher  is  saying.  Excuse  yourself  to  wash   your   face   i f   you   fee l   ? red ,  uncomfortable   and   unable   to   concentrate.  Open   yourself   to   new   experiences:   Foods,  friends,   knowledge,   sports   and   music.    Challenge   yourself   to   broaden   your  experiences   in  sight,   sound,   taste,   touch  and  smell.      There  is  a  great  big  world  of  these  senses  out  there.  I  challenge  you  to  find  them.  

 

A LOOK AT DIFFERENT ETHNIC FESTIVALS: HARI RAYA Hari  Raya  

Hari  Raya,  also  known  as,  Eid  al-­‐Fitr,  in  Arabic,  is  an   important   religious   holiday   celebrated   by  Muslims  worldwide.  Eid  al-­‐Fitr  marks  the  end  of  Ramadan,   the   Islamic   holy   month   of   fas?ng,  where  Muslims  have   to   fast   for  a   total  of  29  or  30   days   of   dawn-­‐to-­‐sunset   fas?ng   during   the  en?re  month.      On   the   first   day   of   Eid   al-­‐Fitr,   in   the   morning,  Muslims  will  head  to  the  mosque,  large  hall  or  an  open   field   to   perform   a   special   Islamic   prayer.  AKer   the   prayers,   Muslims   visit   their   rela?ves,  friends  and  acquaintances.  They  some?mes  hold  large   communal   celebra?ons   in   homes,  community  centres  or  rented  halls.    During   this   fes?ve  occasion,  my   family  and   I   try  to   visit   as   many   houses   as   we   can.   The   first  house  that  we  visit  would  be  my  grandparents.  It  has   been   a   tradi?on   that   all  my   uncles,   aun?es  and   cousins   will   gather   at   my   grandparents’  home   where   we   will   meet   each   other,   eat  together  and  enjoy  the  presence  of  our  rela?ves.  AKer  that,  my  parents  and  my  uncles  and  aun?es  will   seek   forgiveness   from  their  parents.  Then   it  would   the   younger   genera?on   and   so   on,  forgiving   our   grandparents   in   turn.   This   part   is  where   some   of   you   may   hear   some   of   your  Muslim   friends   say,   “Selamat   Hari   Raya,   Maaf  Zahir  dan  Ba?n.”    The   younger   genera?on   or   the   youths  who   are  not   working   and   s?ll   schooling   will   receive  packets  of  money.  A  green  envelope  is  the  Malay  version   of   the   Chinese   red   envelope.   Malay  Muslims   in   Malaysia,   Brunei,   Singapore,   and  Indonesia  hand  out  money  in  green  envelopes  to  their  guests  who  visit  their  homes  during  Eid  al-­‐Fitr.   Green   envelopes   are   used   popularly  because   they   are   associated   with   the   Islamic  paradise  and  the  Islamic  concept  of  charity.        

   

Saudi  Arabia  Eid   al-­‐Fitr   is   celebrated   with   greater  entertainment   in   Saudi   Arabia.   Saudis   will  decorate   their   homes   and   prepare  scrump?ous   tradi?onal  meals   for   family   and  friends.   Eid   is   celebrated   differently  depending  on   the   region,   culturally,   in   Saudi  Arabia   but   one   thing   in   common   is   that  guests   are   welcomed   with   generosity   and  hospitality.      To  show  their  generosity  during  Eid,  many  of  the   shopkeepers   will   give   free   giKs   when  their  customer  purchases  something  from  the  store.  For  example,  chocolate  shops  will  give  each   customer   who   buys   a   selec?on   of  candies   a   free   crystal   candy   dish   with   their  purchase.   Saudis   go   to   great   extents   to  express   their   kindness   and   generosity.   You  may  witness  complete  strangers  gree?ng  one  another   at   random;   even   occupants   of  random   vehicles   wai?ng   at   stop   lights.  Some?mes,  even   toys  and  giKs  will  be  given  to  children  by  complete  strangers.    In   some   areas,   Saudi   men   will   buy   large  quan??es  of   rice  and  other  basic  necessi?es  for   those   who   are   less   fortunate   and   then  leave   them   anonymously   at   the   doors.   Also,  in   some  areas   in   the  middle  of  Saudi  Arabia,  such   as   Al   Qassim,   it   is   a   common   tradi?on  that  aKer  the  Eid  prayer,  each  household  will  lay  out  large  rugs  to  share  large  meals  with  all  the   neighbours.   In   the   major   ci?es   in   Saudi  Arabia,   every  night   there   are  huge  fireworks  shows.    I  hope  that  my  explana?ons  on  what  goes  on  during   Hari   Raya,   helps   you   get   a   more  clearer   understanding   on   how   Muslims,  celebrate  this  fes?ve  occasion.  There  is  more  to  this  holiday  than  you  realise!    

-­‐  Ulfah  Irwan  (3N1)  

Editor’s Message

Some  students  may  wonder  why  this  issue  of  Write  On  features  an  ar?cles  about    Hari  Raya.    I  felt  that  with  the  a;en?on  paid  to  the  Lunar  New  Year,  it  would  be  a  golden  opportunity  for  students  of  all  races  to  find  out  about  the  other  ethnic  and  religious  holidays  on  our  calendar.  AKer  all,  you  would  enjoy  these  holidays  more  if  you  know  more  about  them,  right?    The  first  term  is  almost  over.  You  should  be  geRng  used  to  the  fact  that  you  are  now  another  year  older  –  with  more  responsibili?es  and  maturity  to  handle  them.    Are  you  ready  for  2015?  Have  you  shed  some  of  the  childishness  of  last  year  and  moved  on?    Most  teenagers  expect  to  gain  more  freedom  and  respect  with  age.  In  return,  they  are  also  expected  to  display  more  maturity,  self-­‐discipline  and  integrity.  What  happens  when  teens  do  not  fulfil  their  end  of  the  bargain  and  s?ll  expect  to  be  treated  as  young  adults  instead  of  li;le  children?    Schools  exist,  not  just  to  impart  academic  knowledge  to  their  students.  Much  of  their  mission  (some  would  say  most  of  it)  is  to  provide  character  educa?on.  Teachers  are  there  to  build  stronger  characters  and  shape  young  spirits.      Students  may  not  realise  it,  but  it  is  true.    We  care  about  who  you  are  and  which  direc?on  your  life  is  going.  As  a  result,  we  may  say  or  do  things  that  make  you  feel  as  if  we  do  not  have  your  best  interests  at  heart.  Nothing  could  be  further  from  the  truth.      We  know  that  our  ?me  together  is  limited.  We  worry  about  where  you  will  be  heading  aKer  you  graduate.  AKer  all,  you  will  be  a  product  of  Bukit  Batok  Secondary  School  and  our  efforts.  It  ma;ers  to  us  that  you  manage  to  survive  and  succeed  in  life.  If  it  means  that  we  may  have  to  be  a  li;le  hard  on  you  to  ensure  that  you  learn  the  proper  life  skills  to  get  by  in  life,  we  take  no  pleasure  from  it  –  but  we  will  do  what  it  takes  to  help  you  learn  and  grow.      Remember  that,  please.  And  show  us  the  same  pa?ence  that  we  show  you  on  a  daily  basis.