It's been 23 years since I first stepped into a school as a teacher and I haven't lost the fascinated feeling I get when I'm at work. The feeling of sometimes being awestruck in silence when I watch my students... To me, each of them are raw works of art... potential masterpieces. They themselves are the artists and they hold their own palettes and brushes. Yes, there are times I feel like screaming in frustration ... or like grabbing one by the shoulders and shaking him or her awake from a dreamfog. A lot of such times... but isn't a masterpiece usually born of frenzied energy and angst? And now I teach pre university students... it seems like ALL of them are brimming with angst. I used to feel like I was the one holding the brush and that I HAD to do this or do that... but I have come to realise that these masterpieces-in-the-making need to make their own decisions of where the brushstrokes need to go and how much paint to use and when to apply the colours... ...