Dear Choon Ling,

If you require a diversion from your tedious rumination over some accounting jargon, allow me to amuse you. Let me lament, weep, and rant while you sit and nod in your seat of tranquility and then share with me your wisdom and sharp perspectives after.
Yeah? (rubs hands with glee)
Anyway , I was sitting at the Crew Bar last night, and I met this Australian hostess. And she was like, “Ying, I can’t believe it! The new English Teacher is coming over and she’s my best friend! You’ll looooove her. She’s so easy-going that you have no problems, getting along with her.” And I was, “Yeah, I know. But I’ll only have the pleasure of being with her for a week and then, I’m leaving.” And her eyes opened, wide, and she gasped, “You mean she’s replacing you?” And I was like, “Yeah man”. Her mouth opened, closed and then opened again…”But wait….you teach..English? Oh, I’m sorry…I thought you teach Chinese or something!!!!!!”
At the point of time, I was thinking to myself. Basta! I’ve enough of this racial judgments that comes with this position. Obviously I don’t look like I can teach English even though I believe I speak better than most of my native speaker counterparts. Nonetheless, that’s not the issue. The issue is, I don’t see how I can establish a career that requires you to have the right skin colour and nationality to progress. At first, I was close to investing 1000 pounds in a professional teaching certificate but now, I think, why should I? It’s pointless. No matter how I speak or teach, it doesn’t matter until I have the right passport or accent. Which is bull but that’s how it is.
Time for a career switch-again.
I’m sorry, Steve. I know you’ve always told me that I can do it, and it was you who helped me get this gig, but this is all really hard to ignore.