An unexpected visit...

That day, I was so tired and I didn’t feel like going to work. Moreover it was 5 September, Teacher’s day. I imagined what would happen at school. The students who wish me ‘Happy Teacher’s day’, the programs that they perform for the teachers, teachers’ meeting, and a gift from the Principal etc. The same as last year, everything is going to be repeated one more time. Nothing interested me. I lied down on my couch watching TV – a day to rest.

Around 10 O’clock my phone rang. It was Harini, a girl who was in my class, 4 years back.

-Madam, can I visit you today?

I spontaneously replied –‘Not today, may be during week-end’

-I just want to give you a card. That’s all.

I didn’t want to insult her. I told her ‘yes’.

The appointment, it was fixed at 5. Around 4 O’clock, another call. It was two other girls, Sujitha and Srimathy from the same class. They wanted to come to see me…

Suddenly, I remembered that class which I liked a lot; my first year as a teacher – the enthusiasm I had, the good relation that I established with my students, the initiatives, the sacrifices.

I also realised that I wasn’t the same as before. I changed and I found that my profession had become mechanical and monotonous.

My house was in disorder. I didn’t want to get more tired by arranging all that. I quickly took a bath and I waited for the girls.

Finally they came with gifts and cards. They just wanted to tell me that they love me very much and I was a teacher on whom they could count, when they lost their way.

I didn’t have much to offer them. ‘Madam, I would like to have a tea.’ asked Srimathy. We were very happy with some biscuits and tea. They had grown up, almost became women. I felt proud of them that they had become responsible and positive and lovable. They had found their own path towards God and happiness.

I regretted for not preparing a good meal for them and not having any gift to give them.

‘We can have dinner together one day’ my husband’s voice consoled me a bit.

But for them, nothing was important than seeing me, talking to me, passing as much time with me as possible.

Harini left around 7 O’clock and others around 9. We laughed a lot without conditions, without barriers.

When I was alone, I read the cards that they gave me. The words touched me profoundly. I realised the nobility of my profession, the impression that we leave on another person. What a good compensation for the little things that we do, the words of encouragement, some advice, the support, the corrections – all the things that they keep still as good souvenirs and treasures. Of course, a teacher has the opportunity to influence and touch and transform their students and lead them in a path towards happiness.

In Harini’s letter were written these words.

‘You didn’t teach me not to fall, but how to get up if I fall;

You didn’t teach me how to fly in the air, but how to walk with my feet touching the ground;

You didn’t teach me how to conquer, but how to fight…

Ma’am, you don’t know how many good things you can do, just being who you are ’

I don’t know to what extend I have encouraged them, but I know that these are the words that encouraged me to continue my profession with joy and confidence. We are just farmers who sow the seeds. The harvest, it’s sure.

I thought of this year’s students.

A new outlook, a new spirit! Nothing is new, but everything changed!

Une visite inattendue

 

Une visite inattendue

Ce jour là, j’ai été tellement fatigué et je n’ai pas eu envie d’aller travailler. En plus c’était le 5 septembre, le jour de la fête des professeurs. J’ai imaginé ce qui va se passer à l’école. Les étudiants qui me souhaitent « Bonne Fête », les programmes qu’ils donnent pour les professeurs, la réunion des professeurs, et un cadeau de la part du directeur etc. Le même que l’année dernière, tout va répéter une fois de plus. Rien ne m’a intéressé. Je me suis couchée sur mon canapé en regardant la télé- un jour pour me reposer.

Vers 10h mon téléphone a sonné. C’était Harini, une fille de ma classe, 4 ans avant.

-Madame, est-ce que je peux vous rendre une visite aujourd’hui ?

Jais répondu spontanément –« Pas aujourd’hui, peut-être le week-end »

-Je veux vous donner seulement une carte. C’est tout.

Je ne voulais pas l’insulter. Je lui ai dit ‘oui’.

Le rendez-vous, c’était fixé à 5h. Vers 4h, encore un coup de telephone. C’était deux autres filles, Srimathy et Sujitha de la même classe que Harini. Elles voulaient passer me voir…

Tout à coup, je me suis souvenue de cette classe que j’aimais beaucoup. Ma première année comme une prof- l’enthousiasme que j’ai eu, la bonne relation que j’avais établi avec mes étudiants, les initiatives et les sacrifices.

J’ai aussi réalisé que je n’ai pas été la même qu’avant. J’ai changé et j’ai trouvé que mon métier est devenu mécanique et monotone.

Ma maison était en désordre. Je ne voulais pas me fatiguer plus en rangeant tout ça. J’ai vite pris une douche et j’attendais les filles.

Finalement, elles sont venues avec les cadeaux et les cartes. Elles voulaient tout simplement me dire qu’elles m’aiment beaucoup et j’étais une prof sur qui elles peuvent compter, quand elles perdaient leur chemin.

Je n’ai pas eu grand-chose à leur offrir. « Madame, j’aimerais un thé » demandait Srimathy. On était bien content avec quelques biscuits et du thé. Elles ont grandi, presque devenues des femmes. Je me suis senti fière qu’elles soient devenues responsables et positives et aimables. Elles ont tous trouvé leur propre voie vers dieu et le bonheur.

J’ai regretté de n’avoir pas préparé un bon repas pour elles et de n’avoir rien à leur donner comme cadeau.

« On peut manger ensemble un jour » la voix de mon mari me soulageait un peu.

Mais pour elles, rien n’était plus important que me voir, me parler, passer avec moi autant de temps possible.

Harini a quitté vers 7h et les autres vers 9h. On a bien rigolé, on s’est bien amusés sans prétentions, sans barrières.

Quand j’étais seule, j’ai lu les cartes qu’elles m’ont données. Les paroles m’ont touché profondément. J’ai réalisé la noblesse de mon métier, l’impression qu’on laisse sur une autre personne. Quelle bonne récompense pour les petites choses qu’on fait, les mots d’encouragement, quelques conseils, les réconforts, les corrigés- toutes les choses qu’elles gardent encore comme de bons souvenirs et des trésors. Bien sûr, un prof a la chance d’influencer et toucher et transformer leurs étudiants et les dirigent dans une voie vers le bonheur.

Dans la carte Harini a écrit ces mots. « Vous ne m’avez pas enseigné comment ne pas tomber, mais comment me lever si je tombe ; vous ne m’avez pas enseigné comment voler dans l’air mais comment marcher avec mes pieds touchant la terre ; vous m’avez pas enseigné comment conquérir, mais comment battre…Madame, vous ne savez pas combien de bien faits vous pourrez faire pour les autres en étant qui vous êtes. »

Je n’ai aucune idée à quel point je les ai encouragées, mais je sais que ce sont ces mots qui m’encouragent à continuer mon métier avec joie et confiance. On est seulement un fermier qui sème les germes. La récolte, c’est sûr.

J’ai pensé à mes élèves de cette année. Un nouveau regarde, un nouvel espoir.

Rien n’est nouveau, mais tout a changé.

Terror gets an award!!

Around ten years of teaching has not even started making me a teacher with expected qualities. Every year I am humbled by the gifts from children, from little things packed in gift wrappers to the sweetest smile that they pass. I consider myself too small for these big gifts but value them high as they are reflections of their unpolluted minds.

More than the gifts, I value the twinkling in their eyes, wondering what my reaction will be. But truly speaking everything was received with much gratitude and love.

An ordinary teacher in an ordinary school is always unseen and unheard and unrecognised. There is no scope of promotions or awards or rewards. People say that we never grow in our profession. But a teacher's growth is counted not by the steps she climbs up, but by the steps she walks with her students. Without experienced teachers from class 1 to 12, there is no school or education possible. It is not a job, it is rather a mission.

Whatever it is, life brings its own surprises. I never ever could dream of any reward as a teacher than the innocent love that I enjoy in my classrooms and campus. But my student thought differently. She fixed an appointment to meet me, she asked for 15 minutes to be with me and she came in her casual dress and specs and a bag on her shoulder. She had passed out of school, yet she looked so much a part of the school.

She sat in front of me and told me the reason for her coming. 'I want to thank you ma'am.' She meant all the words she said and they brought tears of gratitude to my eyes. We shared some time in the French room where she attended my class for 5 academic years.

Finally she opened her bag and took out a long packet, evidently a gift, and stretched it to me. She let me open it. As she waited with her curious eyes to see my response, I took out slowly something with a metal base and a long stem, with a crystal at the top. Truly I loved it. As I thanked her, she further explained. 'It is not a gift ma'am. It's an award.' True, it really looked like one. It was one.

After lifting it up like a winner, I kept it back in the box. 'Have you ever got an award before, ma'am?'

I sat amazed at her thoughtfulness. 'It is on behalf of all your students ma'am'. I had no words to respond. She said it all.

There is no gift more valuable than a kid's smile and no award greater than the recognition from a kid. That is why I stand before the kids for judgment and that's why when they tell me innocently that they call me 'Terror' I take it with a smile.

I confessed to my student 'I don't think that my personality suits an ideal teacher.' Her reply came fast 'you were too strict when you had to be, but kind when needed.'

Anyway I continue my journey as a teacher with another year's batch flown out of my class with flying colours. Instead of damaging, if I have added one feather to your wide wings, that is the best reward that I will ever have as a teacher.

An apology to kids

 In our country where we have strong laws to protect animals, we have none to protect kids. If you kill an animal, it’s an offence, but babies are killed for various reasons everyday and rarely does it get publicity. If an animal is ill treated we are arrested, but kids are physically, emotionally hurt and abused in the name of discipline and punishment. We name all our pet animals with all the great names under heaven, but we call our kids the zoological names of all the animals. The bullocks and donkeys are freed from pulling and carrying heavy loads, but kids carry a bag full of books and another one with snacks and lunch and water.We worship various animals but we don't even respect kids.

I know that many of the readers might not have liked me comparing the life of an animal and a kid. Let us face the fact. Kids are the most punished, the most shouted and yelled at, among all the creation. The ignorance of bringing up children leads to first spoiling them with too much attention and freedom and then taking inhuman methods to discipline them. The schooling which starts at the age of three, the difficulty to get an admission in a school, the challenge to deal with the fees and curriculum of the school etc make a parent act like a circus trainer. The same is the case of a teacher who handles 60 plus students in a class, who is forced to do her duties to the management’s satisfaction. Humanly nothing is possible for the kid, parent, or the teacher, to deal with the system any better.

We have been blaming the Indian Educational System for the past so many years. Though all the adults of the high and influential level of the society know the pathetic life of an Indian kid in the Educational Institutions, no one has ever taken a major step to change it. Indian society consists of numerous elites, VIPs, VVIPs, politicians, business kings, learned intellectuals, and many more. There are activists who are ready to be on the street for any reason. Why have all these people failed to do much to make the kids feel comfortable with their schooling?

Among all these types of powerful people, isn’t there anyone to reduce the weight of a kid’s school bag? Isn’t there any Gandhian to abolish the tight tie and the socks which the English left behind? Doesn’t anyone care about the tiny neck and feet which sweat and make the kid sick in the summer heat?

Did anyone study the physical and emotional and intellectual capacity of a kid? Did anyone weigh the school bags of each class and confirmed that a kid of that age can carry it? Did anyone check if all the kids have the right emotional and intelligent quotient to cope with the curriculum?

Have we ever thought why only about 3% of the Indian Students who complete their professional courses are eligible to take up a profession?  Have we thought of the vast majority who lost their battles after so many years of Indian Education? Though all of them passed their exams successfully in flying or non flying colours, they lack personality and soft skills. They can hardly face a stranger or speak effectively. Their limited knowledge resulted from the mugging up style of learning and their limited exposure for a personality development make them ‘inside box’ category.

Our universities are filled with foreign students from other Asian and African countries, who cannot speak even a word of English. They manage to do their post graduation and PhD within five years and go back to their respective countries and work as professors! In their words, India is the only foreign country where they can get admission for any course that they like, and the course fees are less than their own country. And when it comes to profession, India recruits the foreigners or Indians who’ve completed their courses in the universities of Europe or US.

What happens to the poor Indian Youth roaming around the street after completing years of hard work and stress? They get into small jobs for a few thousands of rupees and continue their struggle till the end of their life. These are the same kids born in our households who we carried fondly along with so much of dreams and expectations.

Can’t we try to increase productivity and creativity instead of increasing the weight of their school bags? Can’t we train them up for public speaking and other language skills instead of training them as parrots? Can’t we let them grow up in peace and happiness than killing their young mind with ideas of rat race and unhealthy academic competitions? Can’t we help them learn than putting them down by comments and comparisons that we make? Can’t we find their inbuilt interests and talents and mould them to become what they are good at rather than making them become what you failed to become or what the neighbour’s son has become?

 These are the kids who we used to hold in our arms and loved so much. These are the ones who sat on our lap and walked holding our hand. If they have changed, it is not their fault. They have undergone years of negative phases of life in the pretext of being educated. Instead of trying to blame and change them, try to do something to clear the educational system from stupidity and corruption. After years of Indian education, if the result is an immoral, ignorant adult, it means that we must check it out for its intention and efficiency.

Nothing is permanant?

While the DELF classes were going on, Sangamithra volunteered to write French vocabulary on the long white board. In her small, neat handwriting, she filled the board, for others to copy down. As she reached the end of the board, I got up to help her by wiping the first few lines. To our shock, we discovered that it was a permanant marker!
In the moments of confusion, many suggestions came. Those who had learned from their mistakes shared their success stories; Mr Muscle, or spirit or nail polish remover can remove the letters.
This morning Nethra brought the remedy, a small bottle of spirit. With all of us witnessing the cleaning, the red stains that were left behind was wiped by Swathi,with a wet cloth that we had in the room and in few minutes, the white board became whiter than before.
I learned not only the 'solution' for that problem, but also appreciated the initiative of the kids to solve it. Also a little enlightenment happened, that any mistake can be corrected, any thing can be erased, though it is made by something which claims to be a 'permanant marker'. So keep only what is worthy to be kept, erase the rest and get a new look!