So, I teach.....

.....a bunch of Year 6 kids in fact (aged 10 and 11). I teach them English and Maths. Nothing unusual about that....hey, it pays.

Do I look forward to every session with the kids in ample anticipation? No.
Do I miss the kids during holiday season? No.
Have I bonded with the kids in a manner most befitting of the teacher - pupil relationship? Can't say I have, to be honest.
Does that make me a bad person? I hope not.

Do I try my best in providing them with as much help as I can? Yep.
Do I sense a tad bit of happiness that I am making a small difference? Definitely.

I have realized one thing from my experiences. That I do not possess the qualities needed to be that teacher that one always thinks of in an admirable manner. I’m painting myself out to be a monster, God forbid. In fact, I remember leaving due to exams and being asked to return because the kids had asked their parents if I could come back. You could imagine the surprise I felt.
“How in the world would they want me back?” I repeatedly asked myself.

Let me continue with an experience that will most definitely stay etched in my mind for quite a while. There I was teaching the little ones some numeracy. How tedious, I kept repeating to myself, as I showed them how to carry out a long multiplication for the umpteenth time. Alhamdulillah, they understood it so I moved on, to literacy.

It was a comprehension this time. Great, rummage thought. That should keep them busy for a little while as I completed some administration work I had to get done. The noise level crept up, I felt it. It crept in a way I never realized during my years as a school kid. It happens, I said to myself.

What to do?
Let’s read to them. What an original idea! I sarcastically thought, Lets read them the comprehension, rummage suggested, to her delight.
So I started reading. In fact, I got into the story myself. It was about a Norwegian explorer who had been the first to make it to the South Pole, Antarctica.
As I read, I held myself back for a while. The classroom had gone silent all of a sudden. Very silent. The kids were actually silent. Mashallah, I thought.

I continued as the tale got interesting, telling the reader about how the Norwegian explorer had beaten the British explorer to getting to the Antarctic by taking a different route.

You could see how excited I was getting. Forget rummage, I want to draw your attention to the kids. The kids who were relatively restless not so long ago had now been as silent as silent can be. The enthusiasm was seeping through their gasps and their constant willing me on to finish the story. When I had finished, they looked quite sad. No exaggeration. They were actually upset I had finished reading. To be honest, I was a bit upset.

OK, children, I said. I asked them to complete their questions and they had done so with a readiness I had never seen in them. They were huddled around their answers in fear of others seeing them. They double checked (and even triple checked) their answers with me, as if only gold dust could be spilled on those test papers.

It was time to go after a while; I said my salaams to the little kids and asked them to complete any unfinished work.
I smiled. I kept smiling for a long time, from what I can remember. I wanted to cry actually but there were people in the other room. No, no, rummage is not good with showing emotion around others.

I did get home and spill a few tears of happiness in the solitary confines of my bedroom, though. There, I patted myself on my back. Good work. Maybe I’m not so bad. I’m my own worst critic and always will be. Those kids only needed a chance, something so simple brightened their afternoon and urged them to do well, to excel.

The kids had done their work and rummage had done hers. All was well, alhamdulillah.

I remember my favourite teacher throughout all time. She was my History teacher and she made it come alive. Looking back at her, I know that I’ll never ever reach that level, you either have it or you don’t. I just don’t possess the many admirable qualities a decent teacher should. Patience is like a see-saw with me.

Rummage prefers being a learner, which is her abode. Comfort is what she feels as she learns for all eternity. Save the teaching for those who are cut out for it, she says. And my, what rewards does teaching bring to the one who does it. I know, I felt it that day, it made me cry, remember.

Salam alaykum.