- Sajid Ahmed, Darjeeling. 30th July 2020.
As I was cleaning my room today,
I found in a corner my steam iron
Lying quietly, covered in some carefully collected dust.
Hey, I thought, guess what?
I haven’t ironed my shirts, suits for months now!
Well, the schools are closed
the classrooms locked,
all the corridors gathering dust
like corals on a shipwreck at the bottom of the sea.
I open my wardrobe
my attire, my suits, ties lie unused,
like actors in the wings, waiting for their cues.
Clark Kent on a vacay.
Now, I’m online,
between your computer and mine,
between cleaning, cooking and raising kids,
perhaps a little unkempt, a little rushed,
copying links, engaging meets.
But you know, I am there every day.
Waiting. Getting prepared for another round
of conversation with my boys in school.
Hell, yeah! I am a Teacher.
Born to it. Inherited it. Breathed it.
Before I get into their heads, I try to get into their hearts.
“Hearts and mind”.
Before I utter attendance, assignment and other assorted tinctures,
I ask them, “Hi, how are you guys, are you okay?”
Hesitant silence, then I ask “Did you enjoy the food today?”
“Yes Sir.” Almost in a chorus.
“Is the sun shining outside your window?”
Places that have names you’d roll out and ask them
“Kowalski, analyse this – Kathmandu, Gangtok, Patna, Aizawl, Dhaka, Mangwa, Sukhia, Bangkok”.
I’m there in your house – a welcome guest or an unwelcome intrusion.
I’ve invited the kids to my castle,
my two bedroom palace of dreams.
“Sir?” “Yes.”
Unending queries- young men waiting to go out into the world.
A world that has changed irrevocably.
A world more sharply divided.
Where rich and poor are etched in our psychological maps.
Where “Positive” has become “Negative” and “Hope” is synonymous with “vaccine”.
How do we prepare these kids for the world?
Hell, yeah! I am a Teacher.
I have super powers.
I give them formulas, facts and features.
Then, I doubt myself. “Isn’t this what I don’t possess”?
So, I give them “the secret ingredient”.
For every Po in my class, I am Shifu.
For every Lightning McQueen, I am Mater.
For every Peter Parker, I am Aunt Jane.
I tell them – “Hey, you’re great.
I love your song.
You speak so well.
Your thoughts brightened my class today.
I really laughed at the meme you made.
Wow, you helped your neighbour.
Abou Ben Adhem, may your tribe increase.”
Hell, yeah! I am a Teacher.
For more than half my life, I’ve been talking to kids
but more importantly I’ve been listening to these tiny voices
become vociferous.
I’ve believed in your children and will believe in them
when they enter a broken, struggling world,
far from their ideal “home.”
I will believe in every Ryhaan, Karan, Maahin, Rahul,
Raman, Ritesh, Upendra, Ayaan and many more.
Hell, yeah! I am a Teacher.
I’ll meet your kids as the same person
online, offline – catch him from getting out of line.
A person who will ask him his personal opinions
and why it matters.
I’ll unsettle his order of grimy group think,
initiate new ideas,
broaden horizons,
teach him to reflect deeply, analytically and independently.
( thank you Robert P. George for writing those lines.)
I’ll tell him it’s okay to make mistakes.
It’s okay to say I’ve network issues,
that even your Sir has to climb his cupboard to find a connection.
But the two days you waited for the lights to come back in your village,
Son, I waited for you to come back and light my classroom
with your laughter and your wit.
The world has locked down, I’ve not.
Hell, yeah! I am a Teacher.
I can make a child feel good about a single sentence he gets correct.
I can share his song with my class.
I’ll listen to him patiently as he presents his passion about F1 racing,
about what his friends and family feel about online classes.
I can be tough too.
How? Why?
I will talk to him about tough stuff.
About the birds and the bees,
about bigotry,
the racism, the indifference in the world,
the doomsday and conspiracy theories,
the pitfalls ahead.
But hell, I am a teacher!
I’ll talk to them about the lives
of hundreds of kids who were there before him.
Now scattered all over the world,
overcoming difficulties,
jumping hurdles,
passing the ball,
using assists,
using a cover drive,
lifting up others,
burette and pipetting their menus for success,
and still singing about it.
He’ll learn and he won’t do it in a day.
Now that he is not limited, he can reach inside his mind-palace,
explore his creativity.
He will build his teams- partners and lifelong buddies.
Hell, yeah! I am a teacher.
I don’t need a suit,
a tie and shirt to tell your children that
the “secret ingredient” is “inside”.
I just help them find their “chi”.
Hell, yeah! I am a Teacher.
I am Ip Man, Lucius Fox, Nick Fury.
I am the Shaolin Master telling him
-“Son, there are 36 chambers you have to cross.”
I’ll walk with him every step of the way.
If he falls, I’ll help him to get up
and urge him to try till he can go ahead.
Hell, yeah ! I am a Teacher.
I can do hard things.
I can sit for hours
just finding out how to make a child’s work
seem like a future Nobel.
I can listen to him without interrupting and calmly tell him –
W.W.W – what went well,
E.B.I – even better if .
And I can ask the same of him,
to write anonymously, fearlessly,
about me.
Hell, yeah! I am a teacher.
Put that on my grave.
I’m there to agitate, excite, ignite, entertain, galvanise,
waken every beautiful dream in him
that is humanity.
Remember,
long before you became an engineer, a doctor or an entrepreneur,
you were once a snot-nosed kid who learnt stuff like
“Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.”
I’ll bombard him with
“Plank’s constant, topography, Math.sqrt, d/dx,
supply-demand curves and much much more.”
Then I’ll tell him –“Son, you got to learn all
and eventually learn to look ahead and put this behind you.”
Hell, yeah! I am a Teacher.
I’ll give marks to your children,
I’ll have to rate them.
But marks are like the weather, changes with time.
Your child - “a thing of beauty is a joy forever.”
Eventually, he will finish school.
He will walk tall,
And feel shy to hold your hands in public,
He’ll be someplace else,
with a set of variables,
you can’t control.
Hell, yeah! I am a Teacher.
I know your child will be struggling.
He will fall but he will rise.
You and I will watch his life unfold.
But your son will be a man,
Your daughter will be a warrior princess.
Hell, yeah! I am a Teacher.
I am a soothsayer,
A fortune teller,
A wizard,
A “Defence against Dark Arts”.
Hell, yeah! I am a Teacher.
Put that on my grave.
And if I am still alive,
I’ll teach your grandkids the same.
----X----
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