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    A Letter To My Teacher

    By

    September 5, 2015

    Dear Ma’am,

    I know I am too much of a backbencher to write this, but everybody grows in life.

    You encouraged and admonished me, loved and scolded, you laughed with me, cried for me, you threatened to take me to the principal’s office then slyly pretended to have forgotten by the end of the class; you ran to the principal’s office when I fainted during the algebra class ( it wasn’t a coincidence). You cried when I delivered my farewell speech and I cried watching a milestone of my life whiz past me.

    It’s still vividly etched in my memory when you received me with that big smile when I was a jitterbug on the first day of school. You wiped my tears when I fell during the recess and always had your candy reserve at my disposal. You chided those who bullied me; shared your meal when I forgot mine. You patiently entertained my fibs about my homework.

    From calculus to confidence and geometry to generosity your efforts to teach were beyond reproach. Thank you for seeing the possibility in the hopeless backbenchers and front row toppers equally.

    You put up with us even on days when you weren’t in high spirits. Your strength is unfathomable, Ma’am. Thank you for molding us into better persons and acknowledging the potential in us that we couldn’t.

    I always missed my roll-call, eye-rolled when you lectured about life, celebrated when you suspended the class, imitated you and called you names, but I guess that’s how students are wired. At this portal, I have an improved collection of things to thank you for.

    Ma’am, your history lessons might have failed, but the life lessons you taught are deeply embedded in my mind.

    Your extended efforts never went unnoticed when you came early and stayed till late to grade the papers while our job ended with the last exam. You kept explaining the text while we were daydreaming from Disneyland to Jurassic world and back to the canteen.

    Thank you for doing all the bulletin boards on our behalf because we couldn’t care less and tolerating our deplorable handwriting when we rambled in our essays and answers. Thank you for letting us finish our tiffin in the first period. And if you were a substitute teacher, God bless you. I am sorry that every seating arrangement you worked out to separate me from my friends failed.

    You did not mind our insignificant response when you were doling out advice and lessons. You allowed space for change but made sure we held on to our nuances.

    You taught us to balance assets and liabilities and how to dive headfirst into life’s responsibilities.

    You never lacked in your emotional embrace when I was too quiet on a day while we hardly noticed your trauma. We know your hands were numb, you were tired of the mundane rut of responsibilities, things at home were disconcerting, but you never forgot your toil. Your resilience is admirable. Thank you for always being that one person we can look up to, learn from and strive to be like.

    I reminisce the incredible support system you’ve been all our life. With these little nuggets of memories, I step ahead in life. I wish I could repay you all that you gave all these years. You stature in a student’s life is unparalleled for you are not mere teachers but people makers.

    You helped me spell my first word and now this is just a small token of reverence and gratitude on behalf of all the students still trying to copy your signature but c’mon, that is certainly not the last thing we can’t emulate.

    Yours sincerely,

    A grateful student

     

     

     

    Views presented in the article are those of the author and not of ED.

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