A student patted the shoulders of his alma mater. Still remaining sweat that mixed with dust while protesting yesterday. Then he kissed the jacket of his pride. "This is the fragrance of the struggle," he whispered. In another corner, a student was ironing her white shirt, black pants, and her alma mater jacket. He will attend a national conference. Ah, surely therefore he prepared a well-groomed suit with his pride alma mater. Another one with this one, a student was cleaning the dirt due to color pencil scratches in his alma mater. He picked up a wet tissue and rubbed it on the dirty surface, he did not regret the act of cute children who had crossed out his pride jacket.
Now it's my turn, maybe it's your turn. Try kissing the almamater from our pride campus, what aroma is there? Will he smell of dust and sweat drops from the time you take to the streets? Perhaps the fragrance that you smelled was the smell of conference participants or other intellectual gatherings? Or does he smell the children you always teach? I'm sure, all that is a fragrance struggle. If anyone says, "The student must go down the street if he still cares about this nation!". Hey, are our friends who are draining the mind after another the discovery is not part of the struggle? Are our friends who often go abroad for conferences or competitions that we view as personal ambitions? Or do we underestimate the struggles of some friends who share their smiles and passion with the fringe children? All of us are fighting, man. Whatever the terrain.
The government should be grateful to those (students) who are willing to guard and advise without asking for payment. Parents should expect that there are millions of young people who still care and prepare to pick up Indonesia in the future. Just one I want to ask, my friend, what is your alma mater? Do not let him smell the worn-out cabinets that you just put out on the eve of graduation. Fancy him with a fight, whatever it is.
