Rather than belt out some clich\u00e9s on the do\u2019s and don\u2019ts of the teaching profession, I\u2019d 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.<\/p>\n
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, \u201cMadam I need to talk to you. When can I come?\u201d Running through my packed schedule for the day, I tried to put it off for the morrow. \u201cNo\u201d, she insisted, \u201cit\u2019s got to be today\u201d. Sensing the urgency of the matter I shelved other commitments and asked her to meet me in my cabin during my free period. \u201cYes Susan\u201d, I said holding her hand in mine. She burst into tears. I let her sob for some time. Then she began \u201cMy 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 \u2013 already so battered and tormented? There\u2019s no one I can turn to. So I decided to speak to you, before I do something drastic.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cOh my God!\u201d I thought to myself. \u201cThis is a tall order. I am no trained counsellor, no experience whatsoever in dealing with such a grave situation\u201d. 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 \u201cSusan how are things?\u201d The answer she gave me was my ultimate reward \u201cThings haven\u2019t changed madam, but I have changed\u201d.<\/p>\n
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. \u201cMadam I\u2019m married to the best man on earth. We have two children and are doing well in the Gulf.\u201d What more can a teacher ask for?<\/p>\n
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.\u00a0 Let us go that extra mile.<\/p>\n
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 \u201clittle acts of kindness and of love\u201d. To quote Wordsworth again, tweaked in the teachers\u2019 context, let me conclude by saying:<\/p>\n
For oft when on my couch I lie,
\nIn vacant or in pensive mood,
\nThose gratuitous moments
\nFlash upon my inward eye,
\nAnd then my heart with contentment fills
\nAnd waltzes with these sweet memories.<\/p>\n
\u00a0<\/strong>Joan Rebello <\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Rather than belt out some clich\u00e9s on the do\u2019s and don\u2019ts of the teaching profession, I\u2019d like to share an episode that comes to mind from my over forty years in a vocation that is nothing short of a divine<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-458","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-pormoll"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/458","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=458"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/458\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":462,"href":"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/458\/revisions\/462"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=458"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=458"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=458"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}