#CeritaHariIni: What I think of when I hear "kuliah"

 1.

I think about my teacher when I hear "kuliah" because he really is the only reason why I am here, why I decided to apply for university. I initially did not want to (except for one particular private Sekolah Tinggi in Jakarta), especially for a seat in any public university mostly because of their close ties to the state (I don't want to explain, lol). I told my teacher about it. He said, "Learn above the system." How can I when it is quite literally everywhere and the individuals perpetrating it don't even bother to change? Well, he also said, "You are stubborn." I am.

2.

I think my university friends are weird. They are the only people who call/consider me smart. Pinter. I've been called many things, but certainly never smart. I was bewildered (and scared) when I first heard that assumption. "Where the f*ck is this thing coming from?" I still wonder to this day. I am not smart. I don't think I am (and this is not a "merendah untuk meroket" moment, it's a given fact, lol). I am loudly stupid and dumb. I also just so happen to come from a people—let's narrow it down, from a family—whose members are comfortable with embarrassment (the more comfortable I am with someone, the more embarrassing I might become, the more open I am about my stupidity and dumbness). So, when I get loudly stupid and dumb, I don't feel that embarrassed (of course, I can get embarrassed, but not that severely). I shrug it off. But, honestly, my shoulders sometimes grow tired of shrugging it off. When this happens, the embarrassment piles up and towers into shame, belittling me for being loudly stupid and dumb. I then become the quietest little hut in the woods unbeknownst to outsiders (don't look for me, I'm haunted). During moments like this, I cry (pathetic, ew). I cry mostly because I feel like I have failed too many people who trust me, because I have failed to meet their expectations. Silly (I think silly is my twin because we are only a letter apart).

3.

I once cried on the phone, calling my mother when I was anxious as hell. I told her everything. She said to me, "Even if and when you do fail, what do you think am I gonna do? Unlove you? That's impossible," (she never says 'I love you' like a normal person). I sobbed. That's true, I thought. My mother knew (and does know) that my fall always begins with me aiming for perfection (I had never realized this until she pointed it out to me) and not enjoying the process. She and my father always tell me, "Everything you do is for your own good. Not ours. Enjoy the process and be happy."

I tried many times after that breakdown, but the damage has been done. I started getting nervous and anxious about everything.

4.

My parents have taught me to embrace failure because the point is trying, and always progressing. Yet, when I sit in those damp classrooms, lecturers explaining things undecorated, failure haunts me. They make it a threat.

I think it is funny how what my parents have taught me to be fuel is now instilled in my brain as a threat, a weapon thrown into my throat or a bomb nailed into my innards. It is also absurd how the lecturers who do not even know me, who are strangers very unfortunately having to get stuck with me because of money (tuition) can very easily convince me I must not fail, I must always succeed. Such modality. Such obligation. "For everyone's convenience", so they say. I do not find it convenient at all, though. I know myself and I thrive when I am let to do and grow at my own pace, with no fear of failing.

I guess it does not matter anymore. Things will never change. Things will stay the same. I will die multiple times trying to survive this formal type of education, one so boring my brain has become dull somewhere along the way (the monkeys in my brain deserve better, may they rest in peace).

5.

I have been interested in personalized learning since I was in high school. I have learned that brain plasticity is different for each individual and so is mental as well as emotional endurance. I think it is funny that the major famous for its "memanusiakan manusia" slogan has failed to treat its students as humans. It is more like the committee is (re)programming the students into robots, into unfeeling cold obedient entities beneficial and profitable to them and their supervisors (I mean, what's up with the "kerja, kerja, kerja" underlying message? All I want is to learn, yet they constantly remind me about "setting up a good career" or just about cuan in general. I don't understand).

6.

I think I complain too much. I also think I focus too much on "want", not "need". But what do I need that only kuliah can give?