After Examination Cheung Chiu Shan

My teacher had just handed out report cards to the students. I looked at my grades.I knew I did not do well, but never expected that I would rank near the bottom of my class.

Gazing out of the window, I didn't hear what the teacher said. My mind was in a dimension unknown. All I wanted was to get out of the classroom, far, far away from everyone. Minutes seemed like hours. Finally the bell rang, signaling that school was over. After leaving Clementi, I walked down the steep slope by St. Joseph's College. Students walked past me, chatting and laughing on their way home. As I got to Queen's Road Central, I saw more people---office workers in business suits and women in hot fashions scurrying around on busy streets.

I felt terribly alone amid a sea of faces. Where should I go? Who could help me? I needed guidance but there was no one to turn to. Jumping aboard a double-decker tram heading toward Kennedy Town, I knew I was going in the opposite direction of home. I climbed to the second tier and took a seat by the window. As the tram clattered along, I thought it would be great if I could vanish into thin air. What about falling from a great height, or drowning oneself in the sea? But both are impractical solutions. Just imagine seeing broken bones on the ground and blood splattered everywhere.  The very thought of such a horrible sight made me  shudder. The image of a bloated body floating in the sea was equally disturbing and unappealing.

Accepting corporal punishment at home was out of the question. No way would I endure the physical pain that was going to leave me emotionally scarred. How did it turn out this way? Before attending Clementi, I was a happy student. Throughout the years I maintained good grades at my former school, where schooling would end after the third year of middle school.  I missed terribly my former classmates, boys and girls, and the trust and camaraderie that held us together.

During  recess my former classmates and I played basketball. Homework was easy as I could seek help from any of the boys or girls over the phone. My teachers were great; they were very knowledgeable about the subjects they taught. As walking to school took only ten minutes, I never had to worry about being late for class. When I began attending Clementi, my family moved from an apartment in Happy Valley to another apartment near the Tiger Balm Garden.  The time needed to get to school became less predictable. Every morning, I walked down a steep, 77-step stairway leading down to Tai Hang Road. On rainy days, I walked gingerly on the wet, slippery steps, making sure that I would not slip and fall.  From Tai Hang Road  there was another stairway with 72 steps that I had to conquer before reaching Tai Hang below.

At the Tai Hang bus stop, the buses whooshing past me were most of the time full. If I could not get on a bus, I would walk for another five minutes to the terminus and wait in line. At a stop in Admiralty I got off, hoping I would make it to class before the bell rang. Everyday going to school was not only time-consuming but also stressful. At Clementi the basketball court was always the boys' domain. No longer could I play basketball during recess. My classmates consisted of four girls and an overwhelming majority of boys. There was an invisible wall between the two groups. I sensed that any boy seen talking to a girl for more than a few times in class could easily become an object of ridicule among his peers.

My uniform was also changed from a blouse and pants to a dress in summer and a blouse, skirt and jacket in winter.  The skirt allowed bone-piercing cold to needle my muscles in wintertime. I was used to three examinations in a semester. At Clementi one examination decided a student's fate.  I realized lack of concentration and poor planning in study was the cause of my bad grades.

From Kennedy Town I rode the tram back to Causeway Bay. Getting off the tram, I decided it was time to go home. Luckily my father was in a good mood.  Showing him the report card, I explained in detail the difficulties I had in making the transition from my former school to Clementi. All that I asked for was a chance to redeem myself. If there was no marked improvement in the next semester, I would be willing to accept any kind of punishment meted out to me. My father was moved by either my sincerity or my eloquence.  He spared the rod that day.

Another semester went by.  My teacher handed out report cards to the students again. Taking a deep breath, I looked at my grades and class rank on the report card. I looked forward to the end of the school day, as I could hardly wait to go home.

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