Rather than belt out some clichés on the do’s and don’ts of the teaching profession, I’d like to share an episode that comes to mind from my over forty years in a vocation that is nothing short of a divine calling.

One morning as I walked out of my lecture in the F. Y. BCom class, Susan (name changed) followed hard at my heels. Even before I turned, she grabbed my hand and demanded, “Madam I need to talk to you. When can I come?” Running through my packed schedule for the day, I tried to put it off for the morrow. “No”, she insisted, “it’s got to be today”. Sensing the urgency of the matter I shelved other commitments and asked her to meet me in my cabin during my free period. “Yes Susan”, I said holding her hand in mine. She burst into tears. I let her sob for some time. Then she began “My mother married this lecherous drunkard. My father died leaving us homeless and in utter poverty. Taking advantage of the situation, this man befriended my mother, assuring her that he would take care of both of us. Once married he showed his true colours. I shudder when I think of the physical and mental trauma my mother has gone through. But the worst was yet to come. In my growing up years to my horror, I realized that he was a paedophile. Day or night I am not safe when alone with him in the house. How can I tell this to my mother – already so battered and tormented? There’s no one I can turn to. So I decided to speak to you, before I do something drastic.”

“Oh my God!” I thought to myself. “This is a tall order. I am no trained counsellor, no experience whatsoever in dealing with such a grave situation”. One thing I realized was that the girl was not seeking advice. Right now she needed a shoulder to cry on, a listening ear and an empathic heart. And these I was most willing to give. That she was on the brink of a nervous breakdown was obvious. Psychiatric help was a must. So I accompanied her to a psychiatrist friend who ably attended to her medically. He also guided me on my role in weaning her out of the situation. It took months before Susan was near normal. By the time she was in T.Y. Bcom there was a bounce in her step and a glow on her face. A year after she finished college, she came to see me and to my query “Susan how are things?” The answer she gave me was my ultimate reward “Things haven’t changed madam, but I have changed”.

Years later, one day when in the city, this charming well-groomed young woman oozing confidence and joy came running towards me. That grip was familiar, only that, this time it was warm and firm and sent such positive vibrations through my spine. It was Susan, eyes dripping gratitude. “Madam I’m married to the best man on earth. We have two children and are doing well in the Gulf.” What more can a teacher ask for?

The purpose of sharing this episode is to remind teachers that our role is not confined to the classroom and to academics. Seated in the classroom of ours, is many a child who looks to us as confidante, counselor and guide.  Let us go that extra mile.

Over a decade retired now, what warms the cockles of my heart are not those pedantic lectures delivered day in and day out, but these “little acts of kindness and of love”. To quote Wordsworth again, tweaked in the teachers’ context, let me conclude by saying:

For oft when on my couch I lie,
In vacant or in pensive mood,
Those gratuitous moments
Flash upon my inward eye,
And then my heart with contentment fills
And waltzes with these sweet memories.

 Joan Rebello