It's been a little crazy for me the past week, and I've not had much time at the computer-- work, personal study and weddings (friends, not mine!) have kept me busier than usual. But fortunately not too busy to appreciate what others write, such as Nithya Sidhu's thoughtful tribute to Frank McCourt and teachers in general in today's edition of The Star:
TEACHER TALK
By NITHYA SIDDHU
While teachers impart knowledge and contribute to student progress, they too need to reflect and evaluate their triumphs and failures as the year comes to an end.
I always thought teaching was a simple matter of telling the class what you knew and then testing them and giving them grades. How was I to know how complicated the life of a teacher could be? — Frank McCourt
AS THE year draws to a close, my thoughts inevitably return to how the year has been for me. In particular, my life as a teacher this year. What did I really achieve? How much of what I taught sank in and made a difference? How much of it succeeded in bringing about positive change? What did I do right this year? What mistakes did I make?
Despite the years of experience I now have as a teacher, what new thing did I learn this year? Did I make an effort to be innovative? Did I create some ripples?
I ask all these questions of myself, but I sometimes wonder, “Do others also reflect and ask such questions?” Well, I know one thing. Frank McCourt did.
The Pulitzer-winning author and teacher, who passed away in July, was always hungry for ideas and information, often asking questions and seeking answers.
He not only wrote Angela’s Ashes, but also wrote about his teaching experiences in Teacher Man.
The book was about him — of his teaching career, how he coped, how he suffered, what his students were like, what they could be, what he would have liked them to be, and what some would never be, what his personal life was like, as opposed to his professional one.
The challenges of facing children with different personalities, wondering how to treat each one of them, getting it right, getting it wrong, learning by making mistakes, hitting the right note, hitting the wrong one, managing, inspiring, taking it in his stride, cursing, appreciating, procrastinating, caring too much or not caring at all, touching lives, being the brunt of parents’ complaints, being aware of diversity, mannerisms, upbringing, personality, attitude, being shouted at, shouting back, striking a chord, not striking one, bobbing, swimming, drowning — what a life! And, McCourt lived it.
An Irish man, this remarkable teacher was once very poor; as a child in Ireland, he even stole to survive extreme poverty; as an adult in America, he found his niche, first in teaching and then in writing.
He was a man who wasn’t sure if he were doing the right thing in class. He tried to understand the young charges he taught while he “examined his conscience”. Reading Teacher Man will make you realise how funny he was and how he inspired despite the glaring personal weaknesses he claimed he had.
Recently I borrowed the book to read it again. Parts of it made me laugh and parts of it made me feel like crying. And, I felt this kinship. The understanding that flows from one teacher to another. The empathy. The sympathy. The truth of our professional existence.
He was Irish, while I am Malaysian, yet as teachers our worlds are the same — our worries, our concerns, our weaknesses, our mistakes, our triumphs, our acceptance of the limitations of our students, and also that of ours. How similar we really are.
The work we do — it may be appreciated, it may be not. It may be glorified, it may be condemned. It may help a child find his way in life, or it may have little impact. It may also bring enlightenment or it may not. It may make a difference, or it may not.
But, the fact remains — we, who are teachers, have to do our jobs. We can either do them very well, making the most of our skills, knowledge and potential, learning as well as teaching, contributing significantly to student progress – or, we could do a cursory job and be done with it. The choice is ours.
As the year ends, think about it. Reflect. How are you as a teacher? Do you still harbour doubts about your own ability?
If you do, be brave and remember McCourt’s words, “You have to make your own way in the classroom. You have to find yourself. You have to develop your own style, your own techniques. You have to tell the truth or you’ll be found out.”
Every teacher is capable of doing good. To Frank McCourt – thank you for sharing your life with us and making us, the common teacher, realise how much we do for other people’s children.
