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Confession of a Middle School Teacher part 1


I used to take short-hand classes back in 2015, three days a week. I learned the difference between p’s and d’s, and in 2018 I got obsessed with Morse code; learning always excited me but I learned an important lesson through my past experiences that it takes a lot of effort to be good at something and the commitment you put in is all it takes.

I have heard people remark that teaching is easy (especially for women). I heard an infamous remark about teaching back in the days when I was new to this profession that it is the last resort for the people in the hills. But the most infamously misused quote goes to G. B. Shaw “Those who can do; those who can’t, teach.” Been told by people who can’t teach tell me that I shouldn’t. (Oh! I can hold a grudge for eternity) 

I have been teaching for seven years now, hopping from one institute to the other, getting attached to the people, walls, and ghouls. I just know that there is no such thing as a born teacher, born painter, born artist. You make yourself able, you learn and adapt. The only privilege that I have in life was the fair share of opportunity. But boy it was rough!

Every human on this earth goes through a phase where S/he doubts her/himself if S/he is capable of the job. To my luck, I found some good people who told me to quit it, who fed my insecurity. But as fate has it, here I am with the kids again.

When I enter the classroom I see their bright faces looking up to me like I am a source of abundant knowledge, an all knowing, sorted-life missy. I don’t even like kids, flowers, or puppies. But I look at these tiny, curious humans, their enthusiasm and their confidence make me believe about the things I never could have, like unicorns. I see myself in them. I try my best to shape them into a better version than myself but they have mind of their own.

The first important lesson I learnt after being a teacher was to apologise. I found that a simple word sorry creates a deep impact on young ones whose guardian never apologise.

It’s tough to be an educator, tougher in this century. I believe that’s why it is rewarding.

I was a student once, a curious, enthusiastic and confident girl who couldn’t speak up in the class, who was ambitious and who wanted to be a space scientist. So she grew up to be a writer but then life had a pile of bills and yes teaching was an option.

I guess you got to start somewhere to know your niche. Somewhere, someone told me that teaching is a noble profession because this is where you mould/shape a human being. There are a lot of challenges here. The first is knowing the difference between “Beside” and “Besides.”

The rest you learn with the grind. Your students teach you. I never imagined myself to be a patient person. You tend to tolerate many mishaps and learn important lessons about life, like paying bills is more important than your ego. The art of shutting one’s mouth and the art of sarcasm that God’s given gift to teachers.

There are no bad apples, I assure you but there are bent trees and these fruits tend to fall near them. Children whether privileged or poor are children after all. They all desire love and appreciation.

Sometimes it’s a mad house other days it’s the only good thing to look forward in life. Something to make you feel alive, something to fuel your purpose in life.

To be contd


Kate Sarah



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