Thursday, 4 February 2016

The story of Gold

Teaching is not a profession or even a job. And no it is not even a verb. Teaching, in fact does not fall into any known word classes. It stands alone by itself. Put away so far apart from any other words or even definition, teaching is in its own class.

Today, as I was teaching this group of pupils, I felt many things and thought of many things. Let’s name this particular pupil Gold. Gold is a weak child. In fact so weak, Gold is quite lacking the normal maturity level of anyone in the same age group. Gold, like gold itself, is so pure and precious. And as Gold tries so hard to think or do what I say, I notice that sometimes little Gold here seeks joy in the little things this person tries to do. I mean, Gold laughs over small things with me and my reaction. And as it went on, I got irritated. I got so annoyed that I just wanted to shout at Gold. But I know it wasn’t right. Gold would have done better if only Gold could. But is Gold doing enough? And as I kept my cool, I tried one last time before the lesson ended. And there Gold just stood there not having moved from point A to point B. It was merely a simple vocabulary difference. But it got Gold tied up so hard I don’t even know if Gold can wriggle the way out. And there Gold was, thanking me at the end of the lesson.

But, what did Gold learn? What did I teach? And what is Gold planning to do about it?

I am partly to be blamed. If only I could have a better command of Gold’s language, things could have been better. Gold’d be able to understand better and trying to do more, Gold would become better. I am sad that I could only do so much and yet Gold fails to see it. But is Gold aware of this? Gold’s attitude, behavior and actions. Does Gold really put thought into wanting to improve? Does Gold even know that Gold is weak? As Gold sails through day after day, in and out, night and day, the thought of Gold going out there to the world being Gold himself is grieving.

And in such a standstill, what is teaching all about?

I am not sure if I would last here for long, but I do hope that Gold grows. I hope, whatever is it that Gold chooses to do, he would be happy. And to know that part of Gold being happy had a glimpse of me in it is what I refer to teaching.

You do not teach. You do not even educate. A teacher does not do that, at least not all.
Teaching is when you place hope, trust, and love, and that one day the emotions and thoughts you invested will bring in more hope, trust and love. Teaching is to know you have the gift of hope, the blessings of trust and the care of love.

With Gold, whom I care so much in trying to improve Gold in ways I can, I dearly hope Gold grows up a better greater person. I mean, you do not have to be bringing back the string of A’s but knowing on how to wedge your way through, is secure enough for me to sleep a peaceful night.

Dear Gold,

I hope when you grow up some day, you will carry a part of what I left you with. The future is uncertain, let alone tomorrow. Still, I want to believe that you will always have that innocence you proudly hold onto. You may not have playmates your age group, mainly because you are turned down at most times. But the good thing is, you are never ashamed to ask someone else. Go on asking. Go on making new connections. Each time a door is shut at you, open a new one. There is more to offer than just one door, which we all usually take.

Dear readers, I hope to update more on the story of Gold, and when I do, I hope you smile reading it.