Sunday, July 26, 2015

Side Story: How Did I Fell in Love with You, Dear Programming




The thing about life is, there’s bound to be something that strives us to go further.  Be it past mistakes, will to overcome the odds, or even at the simplest of improving oneself.  Being a student myself, I understood that sometimes it’s important for us to possess that certain “pizzaz” as a factor that distinguishes ourselves from others.  Now am pursuing my Masters in Information Technology, there’s a lot of experience that I endeavour to reach my current state.  Well, it’s not that awesome anyway.  Love broken, life tragedies, shun by the crowd, these are what I can say being my guidance to always remind myself to be one step ahead of others.  If others crawl, I should crawl & dodge.  If others read 3 books, I would motivate myself to read 4.  This is not the type of those competitive states, but rather a self-motivation to do my best.





What motivated me to have a deep interest in the realm of Information Technology, I think.  It must be from that incident.  A racist incident for me, that make me think twice to be successful in life.  To tell a story about it.  Well, here I go.  It must be during my 3rd semester in degree days.  I remember the day is a Friday, 8.30 in the morning.  That day I’m having my final exam for 1 of my core IT subjects, Data Structures.  Studied like heck a few days before.  As most of other courses had already concluded their exam a few days prior, our course is among those that “suffers the misery” of watching people packing & leave for home.  Heading to the bus stop as usual, I saw almost a still population; almost nobody is in sight.  The shuttle bus to the adjacent campus is still operational however, where the sight of those bus drivers drinking coffee in nearby shops could be seen.  There’s 1 bus that I perceive would lead me to the new campus.  However, the bus remained a standstill.  Reluctant to move.  When I saw the bus driver left his crowd at the coffee shop, I assumed that he’s the particular driver.  So he is.  I left my seat in the bus shed, heading towards his direction.  I inquired his next direction, just to be sure.  To my surprise, he ignored me in front of others.  After few attempts of “acknowledging” a brick wall, I raise my voice to illustrate my discernment.  Another surprise occurred.  “You go use taxi or something.  I had already attended your friends to the new campus earlier.  You should come before now, it’s my resting time.  I’m not going that far just to send you there alone.”  What’s annoyingly, he used the Chinese-to-Malay slang to refer to me.


As the schedule shows, buses are supposed to move every 30 minutes.  And it’s their duties to attend to us students.  I can’t believe I begged for the first time in my degree days to him.  After a few minutes of consultation, he eventually agreed to leave.  Trouble over? Not quite.  This incident affected what would occur afterwards.  Along the way, I sat in front with him.  Attempts to forge a friendly conversation just to release the “heat”, all my efforts went unheeded.  He even cursed me all the way.  Calling me names, comparing his schedules with students’ timings, these among the rest.  Patience, I think.  When I reached the venue, I thanked him.  He replied me with another cursing.  “Don’t let me see you again!  You good-for-nothing little Chinese kid!”  Whoa.  I swear I never said anything.  He must have thought I’m some sort of Chinese kid to resent me, who he don’t even recognise.  I imagine to him, how much sin you would accumulate on that morning for hating your own kind.  That point had opened my eyes of how insolent & racist some people can be.  I admit, I’m a mixed race offspring.  But I had never, ever encountered any accounts such as these in my own state, where Malay population is the minority.  I personally thought that community here haven’t been exposed enough with cultures other than their own to proudly proclaiming that they’re living in a multiracial country.  I left the bus without turning back.


Our examination venue is at the 3rd floor.  It is a place where the famous car manufacturer, Proton’s factory resides.  Our university kind of rented the whole place for academic purposes.  Due to the un-circumstantial mishap and curses that I endured, I was late for 40 minutes.  I rushed like a madmen to the exam hall.  You see, all of that venue had that glass architecture thingy.  Made it looked like Power Ranger fortress when viewed from afar.  I ran 3 floors, ignoring the very existence of elevator.  I guess I kind of screwed up.  With the classroom in front of me, I rushed after the door.  Probably there’s a person before me that swing the glass door, that I ran right into.  God knows what happen afterwards.  Direct shove into a glass door.  I fell, sat on the floor.  I see stars, my knees that came into contact with the door turn numb.  It turned blue in an instant.  For a couple of minutes I stare blank into the scenery of that auto city below.  Not before then that I realized my head is bleeding profusely.  I ignored it, covering it with a handkerchief, walking straight into the exam hall oblivious of whatever occurring.  The exam already commenced for 30 minutes.  I felt, better late than never.  “Luckily”, I was arranged to sit in the very front, face-to-face with my lecturer.  I guess she is the maternal type.  What happened to your forehead?  Are you sick or something?  Is that…blood?”  Oooh, I’m still dumbly holding a handkerchief over my head.  “Nothing Dr, it’s just a burst our pimple.  My bad.”  And the rest is history.  I failed that very paper.  Didn’t finish it on time.  Due to the hypocrisy of certain people.  After that, I was being paranoid of my own race & everything that they commit.  Due to this, I had to repeat the same paper in my final semester.  I guess my dean might be the only lecturer that noticed, as she signed the letter of acceptance.




My relationship with the lecturer that taught the subject is what I’d say, as if mother and son.  Her name is Dr Mashitah Hashim.  As some junior proclaimed, she might be among the lecturer that is very proficient in programming for our Computing Department.  I don’t know quite well what happened, but she claimed when we have private chats that in the huge lecture hall she noticed my timid nature among the rest.  It reminded her of her own child.  I mean, how possible can it be right?  After that incident, I went to her office to inquire to retake the exam.  I told her of the whole incident.  Know what she told me?  “I noticed something amiss with your answers when I read your paper.  It’s brief and short.  Not your way of life, I think.  And you didn’t answer most of the questions.  I didn’t think you’d be lazy enough, to left out your opportunity of passing with flying colours.  When you came and told me your own stories, I know my doubt is true.”  That’s how I remember she’s quoted.  She asked me to retake the entire subject, having high expectation and gave me a speech that emphasized I should become a good programmer who doesn’t only understand the fundamentals of programming by memorizing a few notes, but rather the logic behind its implementation.  Before this, she’s the only lecturer that I dare to share about my family’s conflicts, how Chinese and Malay nature clashed in my household.  She would reply my letters in the wee hours of morning, sharing her perspective which I doubt someone who’s still in a sleepy state would be able to relay.


After that, I really vowed to succeed in the field of programming.  The reference book is what I preferred from romance novels, online tutors being my subscribed list in Youtube.  I managed to score a solid A when I took Object-Oriented Programming during the 6th semester, something that I heard from my lecturers is a feat succeeded by only 10 people from hundreds taking that exam.  I started to have interest towards field other than C++, such as Actionscript in animation, cloud computing development, even up to the extent of Java programming.  Due to this, I took the challenge of selecting mobile application development as my Final Year Project.  I spent about 1 year researching on Java Enterprise and Eclipse.  Although my app doesn’t end like as it should be, I managed to gain an insight of field deeper than fundamental programming.  Our faculty even hold a competition of Final Year Project exhibition, where I illustrated my failed attempt at app building.  Although that attempt is proven futile, something raised my spirit afterwards.  As mentioned earlier, I had re-take the subject in our final year.  Unfortunately, some new-seeded lecturer took Dr Mashitah’s place, which I think really suck at teaching.  Mind the language.  I didn’t manage to be in her class.  Something occurred afterwards.  There’s 1 final coursework for Data Structures, where I’m partnered with a girl.  We’re mixed with foreign students from Namibia.  So you could expect how ambience the environment is.  I thought Dr Mashitah doesn’t acknowledge me anymore, since I lost contact with her for 2 years.  Right after we presented our coursework, she called me.  “I want to see your mobile application.  Let’s see why you failed to win. Maybe we can fix it.  I think you deserved it!”  How did she know I developed that?  I didn’t tell anyone, only my supervisors.  She smirked.  People who know her would understand that she doesn’t smirk easily at her students, unless she’s really close with them.  That incident really made me build my interest in programming.  Even up until now, we still have an okay relationship, meet-and-greet besides messaging each other.  Even close friends don’t do that.

People say, one’s courtesy might be meaningless to some however meaningful to one.  I believe, that’s the predicament that I’m in.  I didn’t really trust those that excel in exams, but fail to care less about one single programming development.  I mean, that’s the reality of the population right.  I think that the best compliment that you could hear from a programming lecturer is not “Congrats on getting A!”, but rather “I think you’re no doubt suitable to work in the industry with your skills.”  I’ve heard stories from my old teachers & teaching practice that how the theories emphasized in university is trash in the real world practice.  It depends on how you expand your comprehension on the matter.  No doubt, there might be people who prefer on leaving all those knowledge behind & pursue new less complicated practice.  But for people like me, we rather learn new applications & update our existing knowledge than trash those valuable basics behind. 

From this will after I graduated, I decided to pursue what I think is essential.  There’s 1 member in my household who go doctorate.  There’s no mistake for me to do that too, right.  So while I see my course mates whine about the lack of opportunity to look for jobs openly on social media, I decided to do anything related to my studies.  Fortunately, right after the night that I graduated I got messaged by my vice dean to become her research assistant in developing a web crawler for text tokenization.  I admit, I didn’t manage to reach her expectation in that 5-month project due to my lacking.  However, right after that while I’m searching for financial boost for my Masters degree, I received an offer to pursue the field of Artificial Intelligence & Natural Language Processing with another lecturer.  My study fee was waived, I got monthly salaries, got offered job as university tutor, and manage to hold on to what I want to do.  Currently I’m continuing a project of Named Entity Recognition.  So yeah, I was being thankful.  After a racist incident, my morale had reached this point.

So after blabbering so long in this article, I just want to stress out that there’s no need to be ashamed with what we choose in life.  People might get odd jobs and access to credit cards while we’re still dragging our lives to research a programming language & preparing to attend conferences, but it’s important that we do what we believed in.  They might have the privileges of boasting about their lives, where we live in seclusion from the crowd due to our duties.  What matters is what happens afterwards.  Few years ago, I was actually planning to become a civil engineer in a public institution that I rejected after.  My life would be drastically different if I choose that path.  Road that diverges to a selection to life journey, we need to choose it wisely.  Predicament, it’s what matters the most.
 

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Post a Comment

Sunday, July 26, 2015

Side Story: How Did I Fell in Love with You, Dear Programming




The thing about life is, there’s bound to be something that strives us to go further.  Be it past mistakes, will to overcome the odds, or even at the simplest of improving oneself.  Being a student myself, I understood that sometimes it’s important for us to possess that certain “pizzaz” as a factor that distinguishes ourselves from others.  Now am pursuing my Masters in Information Technology, there’s a lot of experience that I endeavour to reach my current state.  Well, it’s not that awesome anyway.  Love broken, life tragedies, shun by the crowd, these are what I can say being my guidance to always remind myself to be one step ahead of others.  If others crawl, I should crawl & dodge.  If others read 3 books, I would motivate myself to read 4.  This is not the type of those competitive states, but rather a self-motivation to do my best.





What motivated me to have a deep interest in the realm of Information Technology, I think.  It must be from that incident.  A racist incident for me, that make me think twice to be successful in life.  To tell a story about it.  Well, here I go.  It must be during my 3rd semester in degree days.  I remember the day is a Friday, 8.30 in the morning.  That day I’m having my final exam for 1 of my core IT subjects, Data Structures.  Studied like heck a few days before.  As most of other courses had already concluded their exam a few days prior, our course is among those that “suffers the misery” of watching people packing & leave for home.  Heading to the bus stop as usual, I saw almost a still population; almost nobody is in sight.  The shuttle bus to the adjacent campus is still operational however, where the sight of those bus drivers drinking coffee in nearby shops could be seen.  There’s 1 bus that I perceive would lead me to the new campus.  However, the bus remained a standstill.  Reluctant to move.  When I saw the bus driver left his crowd at the coffee shop, I assumed that he’s the particular driver.  So he is.  I left my seat in the bus shed, heading towards his direction.  I inquired his next direction, just to be sure.  To my surprise, he ignored me in front of others.  After few attempts of “acknowledging” a brick wall, I raise my voice to illustrate my discernment.  Another surprise occurred.  “You go use taxi or something.  I had already attended your friends to the new campus earlier.  You should come before now, it’s my resting time.  I’m not going that far just to send you there alone.”  What’s annoyingly, he used the Chinese-to-Malay slang to refer to me.


As the schedule shows, buses are supposed to move every 30 minutes.  And it’s their duties to attend to us students.  I can’t believe I begged for the first time in my degree days to him.  After a few minutes of consultation, he eventually agreed to leave.  Trouble over? Not quite.  This incident affected what would occur afterwards.  Along the way, I sat in front with him.  Attempts to forge a friendly conversation just to release the “heat”, all my efforts went unheeded.  He even cursed me all the way.  Calling me names, comparing his schedules with students’ timings, these among the rest.  Patience, I think.  When I reached the venue, I thanked him.  He replied me with another cursing.  “Don’t let me see you again!  You good-for-nothing little Chinese kid!”  Whoa.  I swear I never said anything.  He must have thought I’m some sort of Chinese kid to resent me, who he don’t even recognise.  I imagine to him, how much sin you would accumulate on that morning for hating your own kind.  That point had opened my eyes of how insolent & racist some people can be.  I admit, I’m a mixed race offspring.  But I had never, ever encountered any accounts such as these in my own state, where Malay population is the minority.  I personally thought that community here haven’t been exposed enough with cultures other than their own to proudly proclaiming that they’re living in a multiracial country.  I left the bus without turning back.


Our examination venue is at the 3rd floor.  It is a place where the famous car manufacturer, Proton’s factory resides.  Our university kind of rented the whole place for academic purposes.  Due to the un-circumstantial mishap and curses that I endured, I was late for 40 minutes.  I rushed like a madmen to the exam hall.  You see, all of that venue had that glass architecture thingy.  Made it looked like Power Ranger fortress when viewed from afar.  I ran 3 floors, ignoring the very existence of elevator.  I guess I kind of screwed up.  With the classroom in front of me, I rushed after the door.  Probably there’s a person before me that swing the glass door, that I ran right into.  God knows what happen afterwards.  Direct shove into a glass door.  I fell, sat on the floor.  I see stars, my knees that came into contact with the door turn numb.  It turned blue in an instant.  For a couple of minutes I stare blank into the scenery of that auto city below.  Not before then that I realized my head is bleeding profusely.  I ignored it, covering it with a handkerchief, walking straight into the exam hall oblivious of whatever occurring.  The exam already commenced for 30 minutes.  I felt, better late than never.  “Luckily”, I was arranged to sit in the very front, face-to-face with my lecturer.  I guess she is the maternal type.  What happened to your forehead?  Are you sick or something?  Is that…blood?”  Oooh, I’m still dumbly holding a handkerchief over my head.  “Nothing Dr, it’s just a burst our pimple.  My bad.”  And the rest is history.  I failed that very paper.  Didn’t finish it on time.  Due to the hypocrisy of certain people.  After that, I was being paranoid of my own race & everything that they commit.  Due to this, I had to repeat the same paper in my final semester.  I guess my dean might be the only lecturer that noticed, as she signed the letter of acceptance.




My relationship with the lecturer that taught the subject is what I’d say, as if mother and son.  Her name is Dr Mashitah Hashim.  As some junior proclaimed, she might be among the lecturer that is very proficient in programming for our Computing Department.  I don’t know quite well what happened, but she claimed when we have private chats that in the huge lecture hall she noticed my timid nature among the rest.  It reminded her of her own child.  I mean, how possible can it be right?  After that incident, I went to her office to inquire to retake the exam.  I told her of the whole incident.  Know what she told me?  “I noticed something amiss with your answers when I read your paper.  It’s brief and short.  Not your way of life, I think.  And you didn’t answer most of the questions.  I didn’t think you’d be lazy enough, to left out your opportunity of passing with flying colours.  When you came and told me your own stories, I know my doubt is true.”  That’s how I remember she’s quoted.  She asked me to retake the entire subject, having high expectation and gave me a speech that emphasized I should become a good programmer who doesn’t only understand the fundamentals of programming by memorizing a few notes, but rather the logic behind its implementation.  Before this, she’s the only lecturer that I dare to share about my family’s conflicts, how Chinese and Malay nature clashed in my household.  She would reply my letters in the wee hours of morning, sharing her perspective which I doubt someone who’s still in a sleepy state would be able to relay.


After that, I really vowed to succeed in the field of programming.  The reference book is what I preferred from romance novels, online tutors being my subscribed list in Youtube.  I managed to score a solid A when I took Object-Oriented Programming during the 6th semester, something that I heard from my lecturers is a feat succeeded by only 10 people from hundreds taking that exam.  I started to have interest towards field other than C++, such as Actionscript in animation, cloud computing development, even up to the extent of Java programming.  Due to this, I took the challenge of selecting mobile application development as my Final Year Project.  I spent about 1 year researching on Java Enterprise and Eclipse.  Although my app doesn’t end like as it should be, I managed to gain an insight of field deeper than fundamental programming.  Our faculty even hold a competition of Final Year Project exhibition, where I illustrated my failed attempt at app building.  Although that attempt is proven futile, something raised my spirit afterwards.  As mentioned earlier, I had re-take the subject in our final year.  Unfortunately, some new-seeded lecturer took Dr Mashitah’s place, which I think really suck at teaching.  Mind the language.  I didn’t manage to be in her class.  Something occurred afterwards.  There’s 1 final coursework for Data Structures, where I’m partnered with a girl.  We’re mixed with foreign students from Namibia.  So you could expect how ambience the environment is.  I thought Dr Mashitah doesn’t acknowledge me anymore, since I lost contact with her for 2 years.  Right after we presented our coursework, she called me.  “I want to see your mobile application.  Let’s see why you failed to win. Maybe we can fix it.  I think you deserved it!”  How did she know I developed that?  I didn’t tell anyone, only my supervisors.  She smirked.  People who know her would understand that she doesn’t smirk easily at her students, unless she’s really close with them.  That incident really made me build my interest in programming.  Even up until now, we still have an okay relationship, meet-and-greet besides messaging each other.  Even close friends don’t do that.

People say, one’s courtesy might be meaningless to some however meaningful to one.  I believe, that’s the predicament that I’m in.  I didn’t really trust those that excel in exams, but fail to care less about one single programming development.  I mean, that’s the reality of the population right.  I think that the best compliment that you could hear from a programming lecturer is not “Congrats on getting A!”, but rather “I think you’re no doubt suitable to work in the industry with your skills.”  I’ve heard stories from my old teachers & teaching practice that how the theories emphasized in university is trash in the real world practice.  It depends on how you expand your comprehension on the matter.  No doubt, there might be people who prefer on leaving all those knowledge behind & pursue new less complicated practice.  But for people like me, we rather learn new applications & update our existing knowledge than trash those valuable basics behind. 

From this will after I graduated, I decided to pursue what I think is essential.  There’s 1 member in my household who go doctorate.  There’s no mistake for me to do that too, right.  So while I see my course mates whine about the lack of opportunity to look for jobs openly on social media, I decided to do anything related to my studies.  Fortunately, right after the night that I graduated I got messaged by my vice dean to become her research assistant in developing a web crawler for text tokenization.  I admit, I didn’t manage to reach her expectation in that 5-month project due to my lacking.  However, right after that while I’m searching for financial boost for my Masters degree, I received an offer to pursue the field of Artificial Intelligence & Natural Language Processing with another lecturer.  My study fee was waived, I got monthly salaries, got offered job as university tutor, and manage to hold on to what I want to do.  Currently I’m continuing a project of Named Entity Recognition.  So yeah, I was being thankful.  After a racist incident, my morale had reached this point.

So after blabbering so long in this article, I just want to stress out that there’s no need to be ashamed with what we choose in life.  People might get odd jobs and access to credit cards while we’re still dragging our lives to research a programming language & preparing to attend conferences, but it’s important that we do what we believed in.  They might have the privileges of boasting about their lives, where we live in seclusion from the crowd due to our duties.  What matters is what happens afterwards.  Few years ago, I was actually planning to become a civil engineer in a public institution that I rejected after.  My life would be drastically different if I choose that path.  Road that diverges to a selection to life journey, we need to choose it wisely.  Predicament, it’s what matters the most.
 

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