Trials and Tribulations of a Teacher: Episode 3: Did you Find out Why?
So, I
decided to post this third instalment one day early, on account of tomorrow
being the first day of 2017 and I would like to start it on a less morbid and
hopefully more positive note.
So
far, I have covered two of the blows that I received on that bleak school day
morning.
As
for the bombshell that dropped before me as I was heading to class, it was a
bit of news. Another colleague was recounting a story in woeful tones surrounded
by sympathetic clucks and exclamations of “Aaaahs!” and “Goodness Gracious!”
and the like. Instead of being a smart cookie who has learnt her lesson and
would steer clear from such a scene threatening of bad news, being the idiot
that I am, I throw myself in the line of fire. I discover that the cause of the
hubbub was the death of a thirteen year old girl who died of food poisoning.
She ate take out that was bespeckled with rat poison. I don’t know the girl
personally. However, she is a representative of all the youth I work so hard to
raise. She could have been anybody. I would rather not get into a rant about
how almost everybody’s conscience is dead, because there’s so much to say
there: from restaurant owners, to government officials, to everyone working in
the field of medicine. It is too much for me to grapple with and I have to run
to class and smile at my students and focus on my work. The treasure hunt will
have to be postponed to another day, unfortunately.
Could
you please put yourself in my shoes for 15 minutes? A mere quarter of an hour
was the time that lapsed from the moment I entered the staff room looking
forward to a new day teaching literature, grammar, ethics and rules of
etiquette to the moment I, with head bowed down and shoulders hunched, dragged
my feet to class. People accuse me of being melodramatic, making a mountain out
of a molehill, and treating every mishap as if it would instigate the end of
the world. But what nobody knows is that I am cursed with two things that
create this Shakespearian tragic heroine out of me: Empathy and Knowledge. For
some reason, God, in His infinite wisdom, decided that I would be better off if
I were endowed with tons of empathy. Consequently, I cry for anything and
anyone in any kind of plight, from the stray cats and dogs that are kicked by
oblivious passers-by, to students who are being bullied or abused in any form,
to people losing their loved ones in brutal accidents. My second curse comes in
the form of the daily experience I go through at work. I am a teacher of middle
and high school students at school and of young adults at a language center
teaching English as a second language. As a result, I see the little ones who
were taught by their parents or older siblings to take the law into their own
hands and apply the laws of the jungle, rather than seek a teacher’s help when
they are unjustly treated in any way. I see the youth who have totally lost
hope on this country, and whose sole goal is to leave it with no plans of
return. They don’t even have a plan; they just want to master English, get a
certificate, pack and go! If I help them master English, am I being true to my
mission statement of building a generation that would rebuild this country and
give it the boost it needs to become fit as a human habitat once more, or am I
conspiring against my country by helping all those youth emigrate? (Don’t take
me for a patriot, though. It just happens to be the place where my friends and
family are, so I might as well try to make it a decent place worth living in.)
Now
that you have tried walking in my shoes and seeing the world through my eyes,
do you still think I am melodramatic?
This
was my last post for 2016. I promise you, if you check out the blog tomorrow,
you will find an entry on a much brighter note. Have a hilariously Happy New
Year’s Eve, everyone!
