“She is a pretty well-rounded student. However, her math is quite weak.”
The above quote is a paraphrased version of what my class teacher’s assistant told my mother on the day of the final Parent-Teacher Meeting in fourth-grade. I remember grimacing as I heard those words. I managed to score 100% in English and Science across all three terms, a feat no one in my class had achieved other than me. Why did I have to be put down just because of one subject? Why couldn’t the teacher appreciate the good parts of me? Those were just a few of the thoughts running through my head.
The class teacher’s eyes fell on her assistant, giving her a look of swift disinterest. “Well, we don’t want to put it that way,” she said, “All I’m saying is that she should probably take a look at a few websites that could help her… well… strengthen her skills in math.”
As a person who was quite emotional back then, my teary eyes dried up, and I smirked. “Now that’s a teacher who knows how to appreciate me”, I thought.
My class teacher wrote down the names of a few websites that she thought would assist me in getting better at math. She scribbled the names of the websites, like she had all of them memorised. It seemed like she was trained to delegate a math teacher’s job to poorly made websites and online services. Negligent, much.
On that day, as a person who had just turned ten years old, I thought my class teacher was the hero. She didn’t make a big deal out of it. I wasn’t perfect. I didn’t need to be good at math. Her assistant, however, looked like a monster in my eyes - how could she hold such high standards for a fourth-grader?
Excuse my past naivety. Today, ironically, I am not a well-rounded student, but I would not say I am terrible at math. An honest teacher who told me the truth to my face changed my life.
The sticky note with the list of websites like “Khan Academy” lost its place in my messy drawer in a week or so. However, the words of my teacher’s assistant would not ebb away from my head, although they were harsh. My mother reminded me how she usually never had anything negative to say about me, which meant she was probably saying it for my benefit. Nevertheless, my ignorant self decided to ignore her words.
The summer of fourth-grade was the most important summer of my life. In a month, a subject that might as well have been my interpretation of the devil ended up being my biggest passion. When school reopened, I was excited about how my newly acquired skills would make my teachers eat their words.
After reaching a certain level of maturity, I realised I had much more respect for my assistant class teacher than my previous class teacher in fourth-grade. As years of school went by, I learnt that the most reputable teachers were the ones who introduced me to something new - especially if they helped me learn something new about myself.
I never got a chance to tell that teacher about the impact she had on my character.
For a lot of people out there, myself included, teachers make it or break it. A teacher who is seen in a negative light doesn’t just cast a shadow on themselves, but also the subject they teach.
In my primary years of schooling, I went to a school with an incredibly small class size. The class teacher would teach every subject, and if they were absent, one could spend the entire day gaming in the computer lab. Years later, when friends asked me how I acquired a decent typing speed, I point back to this phase of my life.
Despite the limited help from my teachers, I found little to no difficulty with handling my academic life. This elicited jealousy from several classmates and their parents, some of whom even made racist remarks in an attempt to question my credibility as a student. In this unusually challenging phase of my life, I did have a loyal teacher by my side. She defended me from my envious peers, childhood bullies, and, of course, being a subject of gossip in the staff room.
Although my class teacher changed in third-grade, she kept a close eye on me and looked out for me, even at times when I truly did not deserve it. As a person who observed me, she knew what I was capable of at my worst, which made it easy for her to defend me when people went against me.
Though she didn’t teach me after that, I continued to keep in touch with her and she is a person I will remember throughout my life. Looking back, I often identify 2012, 2013 and 2014 as three years where I struggled with my identity, which makes me grateful for the few people who helped me through it.
My last school did not house a lot of memorable teachers. Apart from the class teacher’s assistant in fourth-grade, only two other teachers from my school have a place in my heart.
My fifth-grade science teacher ended up being my biology teacher towards the end of eighth-grade. Known as one of the nicest and friendliest teacher at my school, she attracted quite a lot of attention. Since she maintained a sweet disposition in everyone’s presence, I wasn’t sure about her attitude towards me. From my perspective, I enjoyed her classes (which is saying a lot because I dislike biology), and that was it.
After the exams in mid-April, the Parent-Teacher Meeting was scheduled for the end of April - and this was when she truly surprised me.
When my class teacher handed me my report card, I cared little about my scores. I knew my half-hearted attempts at studying would not result in marks so terrible that I wouldn’t be able to face them.
Something did disappoint me, though - and that was my biology score. I know, I know. People who know the bare minimum about me are aware of the fact that biology is not my cup of tea. Despite the fact that I ridicule the purpose of the subject simply because I do not enjoy it, I usually manage to scrape through and achieve a decent score. This time, that wasn’t the case: my score was shockingly below the range of my usual scores.
During the talk with my mother, my class teacher did mention that the biology teacher asked to meet me in person. A wave of emotions spread across my body - I was somewhat relieved, but at the same time, a bit scared as well. I was relieved to know that she noticed the fact that this score wasn’t I was normally capable of, but also scared to face what she had to say to me.
On entering the biology teacher’s classroom apprehensively, I took a seat. She maintained her calm and sweet demeanour and asked me how I felt about my score. Unable to find words to frame an answer, I said nothing and looked down, ashamed. She told me I lost the majority of my marks since I failed to be succinct while answering questions. After telling me what went wrong, she explained why she asked me to meet her. Surprisingly, she had a high opinion of me, and told me that she expected me to achieve far more than a perfect score in a simple term exam. What threw me back even more was the fact that she remarked that my mind would be a better fit for something more research-based.
When I left her classroom, I was filled with admiration for her. In contrary to what I believed, she had gathered quite a lot of information about the person that I am. A few other teachers who taught me the same year seemed to “identify” my character, but they never went out of their way to acknowledge it (for reasons that I will elaborate on in Part 3).
Sadly, that was her last year at school. Years later, she still messages me when she hears about any achievement of mine.
In tenth grade, I got a new chemistry teacher, one that people had mixed feelings about. A few didn’t like the fact that he was too “loud”, others saw him as the sweet person that he was, and of course, a few people held an opinion that was a mix of both.
The first day he took class, we were privileged enough to be at school, as it was one of the four days of the beginning tenth-grade that we spent at school. I loved his teaching style, which comprised of him explaining theory and later asking questions. Even if you didn’t answer the questions, his voice, combined with the enthusiasm in which his class was taken, would lead to a clear understanding of every topic he taught.
That is exactly why I was upset by the low scores I secured in my first and second preboard papers. After the first preboard, I took a ton of time trying to perfect my understanding of chemistry. However, my improvement was negligible. Never for a second did I question the impact of his teaching on me - so I decided to approach him for advice on how to improve my score.
As I spoke with him, he gave me advice on how to identify what I was weak on and work toward a good score. He gave me additional resources to refer to, and I listened to every word he said.
Although the third preboard was held as an online exam, my chemistry teacher took the time to call me and tell me that I had improved leaps and bounds ahead of my previously secured score. He also called to congratulate me on something I won around the same time, and I was glad he noticed. My time at school was not marked by people recognising any of my capabilities, if they even existed.
Sadly enough, that sums up everyone I respect as a teacher in the traditional sense.
But you know what I think? I truly believe the definition of a teacher has been hyped up by several people, especially the Indian society. As we grow up, I’m sure our parents tell us to abide by whatever a teacher says, no matter how it sounds to us.
How reasonable is that? I do not want to place a blanket rule on all teachers, since I have certainly had quite a few inspiring ones, but one thing I can vouch for is that teachers are human beings, just like students are. They make mistakes, and when they make mistakes, it should be okay to point them out without having to deal with an elder’s ego for the rest of your school life.
Some, if not most, of the people who have taught me more about myself were people my age. My friendships with them, however successful or unsuccessful they turned out, taught me much more about myself than an average teacher did.
The tragedy lies in the fact that the everyday teacher taught me exactly who I do not want to be when I grow up.
The next part is about the teacher who has taught me most, and she is the person who pulled me up at the lowest point of my life. My mind reveres her more than any of my other teachers since she sees kids around her as equals, not students.
PS: I titled this series of posts “Chocolates Versus Charlatans”, since I wanted to talk about the disparity between the sweetest teachers in my life (like chocolate, duh), and the mundane elders who one is “supposed” to respect.