A Difficult Day

Time. There is never enough of it. Time seems to speed up as we get older and it flies when we are having fun. These realities about time are becoming more and more evident to me as my final weeks of teaching draw near. On Monday, I taught my English Medium students for the last time and it was a very depressing day. The students had no idea it would be my last day when I walked into the classroom on that Monday morning. When I told them, there was an audible gasp and the pained look on Dhruti’s face was especially hard to bear. Her mouth dropped open, her brow furrowed and it looked as if she might cry. I felt the same way.

When I first came to the English Medium school the students didn’t know what to think of me, especially the Kindergartner and Pre-KG kids. I was immediately drawn to them because they are some of the cutest kids I have ever seen, especially in their uniforms. The dress shorts, plaid button-up shirt, and striped tie make the boys look like little gentlemen. The girls, dressed in blue pinafores, white socks and the same striped tie, look like petite ladies. Some of the kids are so small that their white socks slouch and bunch around their tiny ankles. The illusion of perfect gentlemen and ladies is shattered when the school bell rings and they run full force to the playground, their striped ties waving to me in the breeze.

My favorite part of the day is recess, which is when the kids descend upon the narrow patio to devour the delicacies packed into their small lunch tins. Instead of sitting in the staff room with the other teachers, I sit on the patio and watch the kids. On the first day I did this, the kids walked by me and recoiled in horror at this strange creature that had appeared at their school. I would smile at them and say hello, which would either send them into a fit of giggles, or send them running.

Part of what I love about recess is the opportunity to watch them interact with each other. They are so animated with their facial expressions and their bodies; they use their arms and hands to gesture to each other in such a serious manner. At times they are in such intense discussions it seems they could be discussing the future of India, or how to achieve world peace. I asked the teachers what they are saying and was told that they are talking about their snacks, and most arguments involve “He/She was eating my food!”

Slowly, week by week, the kids became more comfortable with me. Now, the kids are the first to say “Good morning Teacher!” When I walk down the corridor, I am greeted by every student with a smile and a wave. They ask me (in Gujarati because they are so young) to open their lunch boxes and water bottles. It may sound weird, but I was especially touched when a KG student came to me to tattle on another student. Tattling, usually seen as an annoyance by teachers, meant to me that they finally recognized me as a teacher. I was no longer some alien creature. My persistence had paid off and they had accepted me.

The Principal told me in our final discussion on Monday that I was the best teacher in his heart for his students. This touched me deeply and I was taken aback with his sincerity and at once I felt the same. His students are the best students in my heart.