Showing posts with label Share. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Share. Show all posts

Mengkritisi Institusi Pendidikan Indonesia: "Dedikasi yang Hilang (Sadarkah Mereka?)"

Thursday, September 25, 2014

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Terlahir sebagai anak pertama yang mendapatkan atensi penuh dari orangtua membuat saya jadi anak yang egois (sedikit kok) dan menyukai kemudahan. Sampai pertengahan usia belasan, saya secara tidak sadar selalu "diselamatkan" oleh keadaan (yang kembali lagi diadakan oleh orangtua saya melalui orang lain). Ini membuat saya menjadi anak yang sok mandiri, yang, akan tetapi, teledor.

Di masa SD saya sudah banyak kehilangan barang. Saya kehilangan dompet, looseleaf berisi kertas warna-warni (dulu kepemilikan looseleaf yang tebal dan berisi kertas dengan bermacam gambar dan warna menjadikanmu salah satu orang terkeren disamping pemilik handphone dan endorser barang-barang Planet Surf), dan tepak penuh dengan bolpoin warna yang saking penuhnya retsleting pun meregang nyawa untuk menjaganya untuk tetap tertutup.

Namun itu adalah keteledoran yang 30% kesalahan saya dan 70% niat buruk si pencuri. 30% karena saya membawanya ke sekolah, bertukar koleksi (memamerkannya), dan meninggalkannya saat jam istirahat.

Saat saya masuk SMA, saya merantau jauh dari rumah, hidup sendiri (tetap dengan diselamatkan oleh katering dari budhe saya), dan belajar untuk sedikit lebih bertanggung jawab. Saya tidak kecolongan apapun, namun saya malah naik level rupanya.

Beberapa barang saya menghilang di dalam kamar saya sendiri, tepat setelah saya gunakan. Barang-barang seperti modem, kaus kaki, sampai pinset yang tidak pernah saya bawa keluar dari kamar menghilang, membuat saya mengobrak-abrik seluruh isi kamar. Saya sempat percaya teori dari suatu novel fiksi karya Cecelia Ahern, "A Place Called Here" bahwa ada suatu tempat di ujung dunia sana yang adalah semacam lubang hitam yang menarik masuk barang-barang sehingga hilang secara misterius.

Namun terkadang benda yang saya kira sudah harus direlakan muncul lagi di tempat yang tidak wajar. Seperti ketika saya menemukan kalung saya di kotak sepatu. Aneh ya?

Ketika kita kehilangan suatu benda, kita akan menyadarinya karena munculnya kebutuhan yang tidak dapat terpenuhi karena ketiadaan fisik benda itu. Itulah yang memercikkan kesadaran kita. Kebutuhan namun ketersediaan yang nihil, padahal di benak asumtif kita, harusnya ada.

Itu juga yang terjadi di banyak aspek di Indonesia. Ambil contoh, pendidikan. Ibaratkan guru dan fasilitas institusi pendidikan sebagai barang atau komoditas. Sejauh kita tidak membutuhkannya, kita akan terjerat ilusi bahwa barang itu, guru dan fasilitasnya tersedia dengan baik. Namun ketika kita akan masuk, atau sudah masuk ke dalam institusi pendidikan tersebut, barulah kita menyadari bahwa komoditas yang kita perlukan tidak tersedia. Ironisnya yang paling menyadarinya adalah siswa-siswa. Karena kami lah yang membutuhkan. Berbagai cara kami pakai untuk menyadarkan institusi dan pemerintah bahwa ada absensi dalam komoditas, atau adanya komoditas, namun absennya kualitas. Namun percuma, mereka tidak membutuhkannya. Tidak akan ada percikan kesadaran.

Contoh lain adalah perusahaan multinasional di Indonesia. Mengapa Sampoerna Group, Kompas Gramedia, dan Ciputra Group mendirikan universitas yang mereka kelola sendiri? Karena mereka sadar bahwa berkembangnya perusahaan bergantung pada sumber daya manusia yang kompeten, dan mereka tidak puas dengan sdm yang ada, maka dari itu mereka menciptakan sdm yang mereka bina sendiri, yang diharapkan hasilnya sesuai dengan ekspektasi standar perusahaan masing-masing.

Lalu kemanakah orang-orang berkompeten yang seharusnya masih ada di Indonesia? Ketika kita bertanya seperti ini, terkesan seperti Indonesia lah yang kehilangan mereka. Namun jauh sebelum itu, hati mereka telah kehilangan kepercayaan terlebih dahulu, bahwa Indonesia, secara sadar atau tidak sadar, tetap membutuhkan mereka. Namun memang sulit untuk tetap bertahan saat kehadiran kita tidak disadari, tidak dihargai, dan tidak difasilitasi. Hanya dedikasi atau comfort zone yang akan menambat pengabdian.

Karena tidak mendapat penghargaan dan merasa tidak dibutuhkan, para tenaga ahli ini tertarik oleh magnet alam, tersedot masuk ke lubang hitam, ke tempat nun jauh disana, melintasi langit dan awan, di mana di sana memang mereka yang dulunya terbengkalai dan kemudian dianggap hilang di tempat asalnya, kini mendapat tempat dan pengakuan yang sepantasnya.

Graduates: Holder of Degree or Dignity?

Saturday, November 16, 2013

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Floating mortarboards
Hundreds of awards

Colorful dresses
Joyful faces

Tears of victory
Grade: satisfactory

She throws her hands up
He calls his beloved up

Ella Summa cum laude (She graduates with a summa cum laude)
El suma dificultad  (He has so much difficulties to graduate)

Who knows
What each went through

She asks for consent
He fights for consent

She pleases with smiles
He gratifies in sweats

Both have degrees

But dignity bestows
Upon those with efforts

(A piece of thought from a night phone call:
Evaluating a case: a thesis presentation was held and the things that were questioned were mainly focused on the quantity and appearance of presentation and less on the quality of the written content: Were the examiner aware that graduates' dignity was at stake?
Proceeding the latter, upon hearing stories of those graduating from the above institution, which does not apply suitable standards for its graduates, a question regarding the purpose of graduating arouses: Is graduating just for the sake of a degree or for one's own worth of dignity?

Escape to the superficial city lights

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

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It looks like an ordinary crossroad. But as the sky turns violet and grows velvety; it's magic.

It all starts with my monthly routine of going to Yogyakarta to see my violin tutor. Last week especially, had been a frustrating week, so I decided to postpone my lesson and just strolled around the city. Hint: I was not alone. I brought along my faithful travelling mate (a.k.a partner in crime), Fiona.



Along the way, I thought we were going to spend some time wandering around malls and streets with girly giggles and laughs. Another hint: erase the "girly" and "giggles". We roared.







The afternoon sun was warm and nice. It was around 3 p.m. when we drove across small, bumpy roads, to get our other friend, Yayang, to her practice hall (she is a great cellist, by the way). As we got there, we could see massive rice fields around the building. It was peaceful and soothing (I was thinking of bringing a picnic set and had some sandwiches. It would be perfect). Sadly we  couldn't stay long. So we waved goodbyes to Yayang, and went back into the city.

The city was crowded, as usual, as we drove to our next destination, Malioboro. People were driving motorcycle recklessly and there were street beggars in every stops. Guess everyone was out at that hour. Well, we did get lost two or three times but finally we made it! Malioboro! One of the places you should stop by if you are new to Yogyakarta. Ignore the heat, smell of horse poo, and crazy becak; you MUST go there. Tell the world you've stepped on Yogyakarta after you go to Malioboro. That's what I told Fiona by the way.

Since Malioboro is a long and crowded road, either on the main road or the smaller road in front of the street shops, we did not walk all the way from one end to the other. We parked beside Mirota Batik (it was the smallest parking entrance I have ever driven through, seriously, but strangely enough, every car gets pass that gate). Things went smooth inside; we looked around, shopped small stuffs, gaped at the 26-million-stunning-vintage desk clock, smelled some aromatherapy, giggled at the strange breast scrubs, and flipped through stacks of batik cloth. 

After buying some chocolates, we went out. I told Fiona that the view right on the crossroad is beautiful, and we should go there. And so we went. The sidewalk leading to the big crossroad is just perfect. Cool breeze blowing to your face, large trees above your head, and bright street light shining. There are some interesting things too; one statue that looks like a pair of feet (only), strange people in strange colorful clothes, and some juvenile teens hopping around, taking pictures aimlessly. As we got there, we crossed the main road, and took pictures in front of the gracefully-lit Bank Indonesia building. I felt happy, seeing so many old buildings still preserved and stand majestically in the middle of all the hustle-bustle of the city.

It was all perfect -until our phones caught little drops of rain. I thought right away, "No, Yogyakarta has never poured its rain on me, it won't." And I was wrong. It was raining hard that evening. So hard. We were running like mad girls. And we ROARED. Yes now you know why we roared. Though Fiona and I thanked the huge trees that held the water from above, it wasn't enough. We turned into two juvenile girls, counting one two three, and hopping from one tree to another, jumping around like chimps after successfully reaching our 'post'. I kept yelling, "Sh*t, sh*t, sh*t, SH*T!" (I'm so sorry, but you can't expect me to say hallelujah in a situation like that), and Fiona kept laughing.

Suddenly, our savior, the blessed ojek payung (umbrella carrier) came and rescued us. And so we didn't swear as much after that. He came right in time! We can't thank him enough. I felt happy. But sad at the same time. I think he just happened to own a huge umbrella and saw us running in wet clothes, then offered his umbrella to us.

I saw his two little kids with their mother, curled up near their unsold goods. Fortunately the large tree is big enough to shield them from that large amount of water. It was not the rain nor the unsold goods that made me sad -I was wondering whether they go to school or not. It would not be enough just to sell drinks to send those little kids to school. Then I regretted giving him only ten thousand rupiahs. I should have given him more. But sometimes in times of anxiety and worries, often, we can't think of others aside from ourselves. We, selfish human. I promised myself as I drove away from Malioboro that if I saw that man again, I would give him some money. That's all I can do. It's frustrating how much things you want to better and yet, in the end, money is all you can give. It doesn't really fulfill my intention. Then I thought, what is so good about having rights and access to everything in this democratic era, when they only 'function' in the presence of money? I hope I can make changes in the future, especially that regarding children who couldn't go to school like the little kids of the kind ojek payung.

Anyway, after that we escaped to Ambarukmo Plaza and spent the rest of the evening there.

It was a fun trip. But on the other side, it's a different trip from many preceding. Yogyakarta has always become one of my escape venue, with only good things, superficially. But it showed me its different side that night. I'm guessing that there would be many others that will follow in my next visits.



To dance under the rain

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

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To dance under the rain
the rain of sorrow pain
dying in Vain
vain of an abyss
abyss that clashes
clashes to ashes
from ashes to rise
rise from lies
lies that dies
dies for a space
a space of hope
hope for sight
sight of glance
glance of a dance



(posted by my friend, Oscar Karwur as a response  to the previously posted "Autumn Leaves")