Alumni - much beloved seniors!

Dear Readers,

during Science lesson today Mr. Ng said to 'do something productive' and since there wasn't any other stuff to be done, theokwek wrote out this essay. Enjoy!

P.S. Refer to the previous post for the meanings of the sidebar lables!

Alumnified
The Straight Times Editor

ALUMNI!

Alumni – of a school, of a group, or of an organization – what does it mean to be one?

This pertinent question comes at a turning point for us Rafflesians. Old Rafflesians Association Day is just around the corner, and planning has already begun in all three schools for the annual fund-raising carnival. Every year, this is touted as a ‘joint effort between the three Raffles schools’, aimed at ‘drawing the schools together’ and ‘fostering cooperation and understanding’.

But after all, money in, money out, every year there’s an endless cycle of rectangular paper – or plastic – notes. We go down to whichever school is hosting the event, have a morning of fun, spend our pocket money in what seems like a well-deserved break after the stresses of Term One, and at the end of the day, both school and students alike are all the happier.

I think there’s a deeper meaning to this fun fair.

I remember when I – and my batchmates, from all the different schools – first became aware of being alumni ourselves, about a year and a quarter ago. It was Graduation Day, 2006. After giving the valedictorian speech, belting out the school song and greeting my teachers for the last time, I felt a tingling wave of nostalgia sweep over me. After all, this school was where I’d spend the larger half of my waking hours of the past three years – debating about everything under the sun, playing the time-worn games of freeze-and-melt or ‘Saddam Hussein’, queuing up at the chronically littered canteen. This was where we’d quarreled and made up, fought and shook hands. Here had been a battlefield and a chapel, a mine-strewn wasteland and an adrenaline-charged carnival.

Even the physical locations are dear in our hearts. Many would remember the foyer of Block A where we had our first class ice-breaking games on the first day of Primary 4. Many would remember the mini-library set up at the back of the class, and the disputes that took place there over torn books and whatnot. Many would remember the colourful green and blue curtains that our teachers strung up for us, which soon became places of refuge, as well as perfect hiding places for innumerable pranks. But it is more than the places that bind us. I believe that not everybody who has passed through this period of time with this group of people can call themselves alumni, but those who have been genuinely touched by their experiences here and throw in sweat to keep the friendship together.

Just last Saturday a number of Orchestra alumni returned – the guys a trifle shy in their army crew-cuts – with their instruments and joined our weekly music making. Sitting with their juniors, sightreading their parts yet playing as perfectly in time with everyone as if they’d been playing the pieces since time immemorial, the alumni wore genuine enthusiastic smiles, and so did those around them. That they used to be one of us meant little, that they loved being among us and still longed to come back showed their true passion.

And so, as we approach this celebration where we remember our seniors – those who have carried brick-heavy bags and trudged through these very ground before us – let us remember too that we don’t need donation drives, free t-shirts or entertaining stalls to draw our alumni back. If they’ve loved life here through and through they’ll come back even if we try to stop them. For us still here, let’s enjoy and cherish this time spent, that we may, in our time, impart this alumni passion to those who follow.

symphony or cacophony - which is my life?