So school starts again. New semester, new start, new schedule, new classes, new professors... BSF starting again too. XD Praise God - I have so much to thank Him for actually. "Today is a good day, because it is a GOD-day!" And in an effort to sum up one aspect of three of the past two years...
(I know it's long - uncut version of what made it to the back cover of our IB annual - it took almost two years to complete, but look at it this way, the second aspect is 52 mini-chapters, and the third is almost half the weight in my Bible case which I promise you, is far longer) For birthday gifts and Christmas cards Not given, here to you I send: An epic touched by tongue of bards – Hopefully will with humour mend The times lost due to work and load Of the IB criteria. Oh me, oh my, how tough the road; Close fall into hysteria. Together through laughter and tears, Through stress, relief and panicked mobs – While we fight on to conquer fears That relaxing and leisure robs… The memories of joy or wrath Here may my pen quaintly recall: Our quest together on this path – Here all for one and one for all.
----- Whether our parents wanted it, Maybe just opportunity, Or naïve dreams of glory lit In joining this community… Perhaps our goals to gain prestige, To challenge my young thinking brain That which is Education’s liege; To study till I go insane. Some of us fidget and bite While others simply do not care. Some glow with confidence’s light; Others manage only to stare. I wonder what goes through the mind Of the top IB director… Can she see through my lowered blind Deep into my interior? At last I’ve finished all there is That was given to me to do: The complex, messy processes – I hope that I will make it through. Now all I need to do is wait, A month, I think, for the phone call That will divine to me my fate; Whether I qualify at all. Some weeks later…I qualify! And so I walk through IB gate. Behind me wing colours that fly Dignified, joyous and sedate. The news spread, others discover; Hand in hand we respond to call, And prepare to walk together – There all for one and one for all. And so September rolls around. The students come with grins divine While red and gold litter the ground, Farewell-ling fond the summer fine. The newbies stare, engrossed, enthralled. Pre-IBers look on with dread, Others, eager, wing forth when called – A second-year sighs, shaking head. The older ones all give advice From their experiences galore, And dire warnings of coming strife With assumed life-ease from before: “Never EVER procrastinate!” Humbug! That is what they all say. “’Course you won’t know till it’s too late. Anyways, good luck on that day.” The books are bought, deposits paid; Applicants, waiting lists confirmed, While new acquaintances are made And old friendships revived, affirmed. Humanities, English and Math, Science, Elective, Language Two… Some Higher, else the Standard path; So what choices made they and you? Each different in their choice and clause But all unique in unity, And joined together for one cause Within this world community: To understand and analyze The knowledge that the teachers teach; Rather than simply memorize, Subjects to ace, ambitions reach. So thus two years before us wait Of mind, CAS, school and homework in The program Baccalaureate With worldwide brother/sister kin. Hopes, dreams and goals are born and drawn, Ambitions for the end of June. Determination like a pawn; Together we begin up dune. The pounding rain on cabin roof, Those skits of Shakespeare and of myths… A new fresh year to come, aloof – I know we are at our zeniths. Retreat campfires…their lights still burn Not knowing what horrors we’ll face. So dirty…pooped when we return, With memories of Newcastle’s space. In English class, our literature – The endless themes I always find: Adultery, death and torture… Where, oh where is my virgin mind?! Those taking Film or Theatre Scramble round like insects at play. Their touching speech to deliver, Enlightening an artist’s ray. The books I need for History, Records, historical accounts, Of who said what and “Why the fee?” Oh God – is this all that which counts? And Geo…better with less said; “Silent wolf!” about Kinkos fees, Stand round until air temps are read, Study development and seas. In Math…the snarls of Calculus, Chemistry packages of fun, Planning labs, Bio SDS – “WHERE is my mould?! I am not done!” The needed data points and trials, And going to the library With sick IBers round for miles, To name the right x-ology. Come CAS – the Creativity, Service component and Action; The fun that is “MANDATORY!” And of course, documentation. Oh must we? logs…and JOURNALS too?! Draw skills in procrastination – My BS-ed essay…done at two And with pressured inspiration. TOK gives me headaches; What can we know? nothing it seems, Between reality and fakes – I flounder through within my dreams The ways of knowing: emotion, Language, reasoned insanity… Conclude with biased perception That there is no morality. Young friends claim IB they’ll join too. I shake my head, sighing and think To myself, “If only you knew,” And back to homework’s sea to drink. The endless information here To help me out in my research – By twelve, the end I’m nowhere near, By five, my stomach gives a lurch. I groan, feel pressure of the grill. Is this to be my last-most day Being alive…course not, but still – We’ve a 4000 word essay! A full week without any sleep; Still friends jabber into the night. Are they done or in despair deep? Can’t tell between darkness and light. Unspoken words flash through my mind – Choked back before a teacher hears. But honestly, I swear I’d find Those words echo in others’ ears. As essays come, flurrying by, Assignments multiply my share. The homework builds and piles high; I carry on, helped with friends’ care. The winter magic again flies; Again a memory takes wing – Of his sweet gazing gentle eyes When we roamed with our friends laughing. Those dreamy days bright with the sun, Before IB was in my mind; The previous school year just done – Summer’s freedom for us to find. When I walked through the IB gate, Of the first was his joyous face That greeted me with welcome great; Hope fulfilled did his visage lace. Since then, on occasion only Did thoughts of him trespass my mind, While I worked hard – need to study! I confess, my heart it may find. But honestly, the IB stress… There was no opportunity For this MINOR issue to press While I adapted to study. This new and different way to learn Throughout first term of the school year; I strive all knowledge thus to earn, All of wisdom’s great pearls to hear. But tonight I was off my guard – I confess with my blushing face. For Cupid I doubt it was hard, His target aim and fail to ace. Because that night as snowflakes fell, And inside roars the hearth fire… Finally, I could myself tell With hidden emotions of ire: That I was slowly falling in – Oh God! no please! it cannot be! Not now, while IB I’m stuck in, I cannot risk turning ninny. I bite my lip and reprimand Myself, making a joke so lame – Trying to keep myself in hand, On silly fancies place the blame. Sometimes I think of him again Before (quite loudly too) I swear, Try to bury myself in bane: My school projects stare blandly there… Why must I be a stupid teen? To lonely pass the heartache deep; Tears by others – and him – unseen, And cry myself softly to sleep. At term end always comes the best: First C+ ever in my life, First failure in a unit test, While I exclaim, “I have no life!” My first term marks went down the hole. Goodness, what will my parents say?! And universities?! Oh no… I’m doomed; can’t live another day! Predicting marks and IB grade, Trying to guess if you beat me. Alright, Harvard I MIGHT have made… (Pause) wait, did he score forty-three?! Apply to universities – The stress increases – tenfold with The scholarships that are no ease; Their expectations…it’s a myth. I sit before the computer, Stare blankly at its flashing screen At the document processor; Wonder how I want to be seen – What achievements have I made? I recall my activities, My hobbies and my average grade, Experience…oh what a tease. And so I slave into the night, My fingers fleet typing away. Yawn before I see morning light – Goodness, already the next day? I scan four-five pages at pace, And suddenly dimly recall: It must all be in double-space And only with one page say all. Oh dang! those hours all a waste Of three-four pages I can’t add. Fuming, I jam on the backspace, Erasing words that weren’t THAT bad. I start again and gasp to find: How can I fit all on one sheet?! Wee hours overwhelm my mind; Off to bed I slump, feeling beat. Bonjour, sayon ara, zài jiàn, Buenos días, in room tiny: Haml – Dalloway! and Mandarin… My teacher smiles, assuring me. (Why orals at the break of dawn?) “It’s alright, you won’t come to harm.” Buzz-buzz, the recorder turned on, No wait – is that the fire alarm?! There’s no more time for drinks or dates; The books scream at us with disgust To flee back to their paper gates, And study before our minds bust. All staying up till x at night, While π and square roots dance my brain, To wave and greet the morning light, Then groan as storm-clouds beckon rain. Come May, I write the math exam While my brain whirls history’s date – And then realize with a BAM! π is not 1988. Oh man! and then to make things worse Comes value of Earth’s gravity. Must physics join and reimburse While I fight math and history?! I should know this! but sleepless nights And cramming two years’ worth of books Take their toll…dizzy, I see lights, And others walk with dazed looks. Seriously, at this point in time – By now…I really couldn’t care Besides that ignorance is sublime, Drowning the pain and the nightmare. I flounder through and hope I pass – At least I should, just like before; When just then I recall en masse: I wrote I was born in ’04. The nightmare seems to know no end – Still more exams before me wait. Whenever will this torture end Before at last I graduate? But how time flies! I do believe; The day I finally graduate, When I finally do receive Diploma Baccalaureate… My friends all blubber, crying sore; We vow to keep in touch and write. If other times, I’d feel a bore But here, I join them, hugging tight. The trials were sore, the work intense, Both pain and gain, curse and blessing, But most from my experience: Wisdom and friendships unending. Although hair loss is seen, truly, As the two years set with the sun, Still true to this community Is one for all and all for one. Again September rolls around. New students come with grins divine While red and gold litter the ground, Farewell-ling fond the summer fine. The newbies stare again, enthralled. Pre-IBers look on with dread. Others, eager, wing forth when called – Sighing, I watch and shake my head. While I move on, my road before; My two years of IB behind. My fellow IBers, our core – Together we move on to find Our destiny and global peace; Help and respond to every call, Together, hand in hand, at ease – Here all for one and one for all. —Teresa Liu (signed), April 2006 | 
