I teach because
It didn’t seem like so long ago that I wrote this, and today, 8 months later, I see my students in the same classroom, heads bowed low in full concentration as they wrote their English essays for the preliminary exams.
I walked down the rows of tables, and I looked at each one of them, youngsters whom I had spent much time with the last 2 years, and I knew, with a sudden pang, that they would leave this school soon. How do I explain the wave of melancholy that swept over me, as well as the slight anxiety as I peered over their shoulders to glimpse at what they had written?
I wished I had telepathic powers, as I frantically sent thought signals to each one of my different charges. Please watch your tenses! Punctuate your dialogues properly! Don’t put a comma there!
How is it that, even as I face many daily frustrations in my job, my heart surges with anticipation and hope the minute I step into the classroom and as I look at the 41 pairs of eyes, I know, with absolute clarity, why I am still teaching?
The other day, a student SMSed me, the student whose hairdo I had botched up, and he said, “(sniff) Thank you for the 2 years of guidance. I will remember you forever.” My eyes welled up, and I was too embarrassed to explain to my husband why an SMS from a student can turn me to such mush.
Tomorrow the school celebrates Teachers’ Day. For some reasons, I don’t wish to be there. I am quite uncomfortable about the outpouring of gratitude and appreciation from my students, an avalanche of thanksgiving all in one day that seems rather unnatural. I feel very pai seh to receive gifts from students. In any case, I have a whole year of memories of wonderful moments with my students to savour. And a simple, heartfelt SMS from a student when I least expect it, is enough reward to last me for this lifetime.