I hovered near the bookshelf – like a child hovering around the glass-pane of the candy store, Looking for that perfect piece of sweet : something familiar, good and a slight twist to wake up your cells every time.
It has been a long and stern day filled with purposeful adults, all filled to the brim with the cares of living, earning a living, and forgetting to live. My brain looked for a release, and a mode to thrive.
I picked up a book of short stories by one of my favorite authors: P.G.Wodehouse.
Eighteen Carat Kid and Other Stories: I opened the first page and was pulled in like an elephant to the early morning waters in the forest.
“There is something always going on in a private school.
Beyond breaking up fights, stopping big boys bullying small boys, preventing small boys bullying smaller boys, inducing boys of all sizes not to throw stones, go on the wet grass, worry the cook, tease the cat, make too much noise, climb trees, scale waterspouts, lean too far out of windows, slide down the banisters, swallow pencils, and drink ink because somebody bet them they wouldn’t, I had very little to do except teach mathematics, carve the joint, help the pudding, play football, read prayers, herd stragglers into meals, and go round the dormitories at night to see that the lights were out. ”
Both my parents were teachers (my father was a teacher in a residential school – public schools as they are called in India, private school in the US & UK) I sent the snippet to him, and he heartily took a trip down the memory lane and agreed in his booming, hearty voice that addressed assemblies without mikes, that there never was a dull day in his teaching career. Being a vegetarian, he did not often have to ‘carve the joint’ , but that apart, pretty much everything else was true, he said. It is always to good to hear the joy of being a teacher coming through.
This week is Teacher Appreciation Week, and I thought of sharing this essay the son had written for his 3rd Grade essay:
Topic: Imagine you are a teacher taking your class on a field trip to Baltimore National Aquarium
The Baltimore National Aquarium
At the Baltimore National Aquarium there is lots of life. This is one of the places where humans and marine life see each other as fun things.Anyway I brought my class with me because the principal wants the kids to experience new things, which I can understand. When we got to the nearest exhibit, I did a headcount of all the students. We were missing 6 of them.Thankfully, I found them near the water (where the animals are) and I gave them a good talk about not leaving the group. Then when I turned around all the other children were scattered. I thought to myself, “This is gonna be a long day.” After that, we went from exhibit to exhibit in the huge aquarium. As we were about to go to the display of skeleton from a dinosaur, we found another class. The kids merged together and the other teacher and I had the same expression: “Kids!” We sorted everything out and went to the dinosaur. I read from the brochure “This is the Shaustasourus, the largest marine dinosaur ever.” After many more mishaps we got back on the bus. For the first time, we had a full class. When we got back none of the kids thanked me for not losing them. Sometimes the world really isn’t fair, but that’s okay. I guess I had lots of fun too.
I guffawed at this piece of writing.
People who imagined the teacher’s job to be putty, are having to re-evaluate their assessments – their puddings of pie children weren’t such darlings when the Mathematics had to be taught by their parents anymore.
This is Teacher Appreciation Week in the US – really what would we do without the steady, positive influence of teachers?
5 thoughts on “Teacher Appreciation Week”
True. Some may be built along the lines of Rev Aubrey Upjohn. Others may sound like popular lion tamers like Miss Tomlinson and the like. When a guest lecturer starts and the girls greet him with giggles and stares, they just need to say ‘girls!’ and the effect on the younger ones is immediate. The control they exercise over us – positive or negative – we carry throughout our lives. I am yet to forget my own maths teacher at school, circa 1969!
I agree. There are times I can remember certain things from decades ago with no problems at all, but I forget things that happened last week. Youth is a gift, and all those who play a part in the growing up process do enjoy its benefits I think. Made me want to read the short story featuring Mrs Tomlinson again.
This might assist you: https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2019/08/18/bertie-changes-his-mind-a-visual-version
That was a hilarious post – thanks for sharing Ashok
Pleasure is mine.