I work in the company of some remarkable women. Blessed with
the gift of teaching, they are talented, driven, honest, the sorts to go the
whole nine yards. Their students eat out of their hands and come back looking
for them years later. These are teachers who work round the year with a group
of children, investing their personal selves in huge,weighty chunks.
Their year goes by in a rush of competitions, exams, welfare
events, exhibitions, school functions, seminars, result making. They keep at
it, struggling to pack meaningful learning into thirty minute windows. Their special
effort is visible, in polished cultural performances, in clear Maths concepts, in
tastefully done soft boards, in the smart turnout of particular classes, in the
unbiased and fair spotting of talent, in meticulously planned staff gatherings,
in the quick adoption of new teaching ideas and practices…..in countless ways.
They labour over thermocol figures, report cards, registers,
diaries, farewell notes to students, elaborate power point presentations,
challenging question papers, vocabulary lists, exhaustive oral delivery
instructions, spelling drills, parental communication……it goes on and on,
extending to their own children in cases, who are without exception, all doing well for
themselves.
One would think, this relentless band would be fired up with
a sense of self-affirmation and cheer. Oddly enough, with all that they do, the
one word beeping recurrently on their radar is, of the entire lexicon, believe it
or not: sorry!
For some strange, incomprehensible reason, they apologise a
lot. “I am sorry,” is their theme song. Wonder why?! And what for!
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