By KOH SOO LING

A STUDENT'S dedication to a cause, be it within or outside classroom walls, never ceases to amaze me.

Dedication is synonymous with commitment, devotion and celebration.

Take the recent Valentine's Day, for example. An Interact Club of a secondary school in Subang Jaya, Petaling Jaya decided to capitalise on that day to raise funds.

Club representatives ordered roses, chocolates, cupcakes, muffins, doughnuts and cards days before the event.

Parents supported them by giving rides to the students to collect some 500 stalks of roses from florists.

My daughter Audrey, a club representative, was anxious that there would be too many or not enough orders, tormented by hours of nipping thorns from the stalks and the thought of delivering the Valentine goodies on the day itself.

At the end of the project, she said she would do it again next year.

This is what learning is all about. All too often we hear about lacklustre schools, teaching and classrooms.

When the occasional dedicated student comes along, it is a treat.

Take my reading class, for example. I was teaching students about the writer's point of view and his mood.

How can a reader relate to someone else's mood through written text unless he has caught the frame of mind himself?

It is not easy to teach pathos, empathy or sympathy.

So I asked every student to bring something special to them to class.

From years of teaching, I know that at least 25 per cent will forget and in a jiffy say that their mobile phones, student matric cards or laptops are "special".

So I wrote on the whiteboard a list of "taboo" objects prohibited from show-and-tell.

When I stepped into class the next day, I saw eager beavers, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. At the back of the classroom was a racing bike, well-polished and almost new.

Surely the owner had not carried it three floors just for show-and-tell.

Then the class started. When each student brought out something that he called special, everyone was enthralled, mesmerised even.

The proud owner of the shiny bicycle talked about how he keeps it in his dormitory every night, making sure that it is double padlocked.

Another student took out a tattered United Arab Emirates Dirham. He too had a story to tell.

His parents performed the Hajj when he was 16. He was left with his grandmother and sister, and a refrigerator filled with fresh produce.

He said: "The only problem was I did not know how to cook. It was then that I knew the meaning of independence and responsibility.

"When they returned, they gave me this note which I cherish to this day."

Then, this tall, handsome and muscular student turned his back to the rest of the class and sobbed.

Then I heard sniffles elsewhere in the classroom. It was catching. They had learnt the meaning of empathy.

Then it was a female student's turn to tell her story.

"This is my pair of broken spectacles. Oh, the memories. I was 15 then. I went to watch some boys play football.

"There was a guy that I liked but he did not know me. I was sitting just behind the goal post.

"Suddenly, he kicked the ball past the goal post and the ball hit me in the face.

"My spectacles broke but I did not bleed. If it had been someone else, I would have asked him to pay for my damaged spectacles. But it was the apple of my eyes. What could I do?

"He asked whether I was all right. That was compensation enough."

So the elements of nostalgia and sentimentality were highlighted and taught.

Through years of teaching, I have seen students bring all manner of things into the classroom such as a big snowy white cat.

I have seen the effort made to ensure that a project is exemplary. No half-hearted measures. This is what I call dedication to the cause of learning and teaching. It is devotion and commitment.

It all starts in the classroom where learning is a celebration of life and fun.

Associate Professor Koh Soo Ling is with the Academy of Language Studies, Universiti Teknologi MARA.