Despite the pains;

This picture just cracks me up. cos ive been the exact lazy student who read books under the table and blatantly fell asleep under the teacher's nose. and now that the roles have reversed, i now realise that as much as it was hard to keep awake in class, the teacher's job wasnt easy; If you have such students from hell, its just as hard for a teacher to continue his/her passion for teaching without suffering a detrimental fall in his/her self-esteem. i really appreciate the teachers who never gave up on us and always adapted themselves to suit our class dynamics.

This is an extract that i read in a book which i thought was really inspiring and served as a reminder that in this competitive singaporean education system, i should not give up on my kids no matter how low functioning and slow and no matter their behaviour problems and how they make me wish i didnt have to teach them:

He was in the first third grade class I taught at Saint Mary's School in Morris, Minnesota. All thirty-four of my students were dear to me, but Mark Eklund was one in a million. Very neat in appearance, he had that happy-to-be-alive attitude that made even his occasional mischievousness delightful.


Mark also talked incessantly. I had to remind him again and again that talking without permission was not acceptable. What impressed me so much, though, was his sincere response every time I had to correct him for misbehaving. "Thank you for correcting me, Sister!" I didn't know what make of it at first., but before long I became accustomed to hearing it many times a day.

One morning my patience was growing thin when Mark talked once too often, and then i made a novice-teacher's mistake. I looked at Mark and said, "If you say one more word, I am going to tape your mouth shut!" It wasnt ten seconds later when Chuck blurted out, "Mark is talking again." I hadn't asked any of the students to help me watch Mark, but since I had stated the punishment in front of the class, I had to act on it.

I remember the scene as if it had occurred this morning. I walked to my desk, very deliberately opened the drawer, and took out a roll of masking tape. Without saying a word, I proceeded to Mark's desk, tore off two pieces of tape and made a big X with them over his mouth. I then returned to the front of the room.

As i glanced at Mark to see how he was doing, he winked at me. That did it! I started laughing. The class cheered as I walked back to Mark's desk, removed the tape, and shrugged my shoulders. His first words were, "Thank you for correcting me, Sister."

At the end of the first year I was asked to teach jnr high math. The years flew by and before I knew it Mark was in my classroom again. He was more handsome than ever and just as polite. Since he had to listen carefully to my instruction in the "new math"he did ot talk as much in ninth grade as he had in the third.

One friday, things just didn't feel right. We had worked hard on a new concept all week, and i sensed that the students were growing frustrated with themselves and edgy with one another. I had to stop this crankiness before it got out of hand. so i asked them to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name. Then I told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down.

It took the remainder of the class period to finish the assignment, and as the students left the room, each one handed me the papers. Charlie smiled. Mark said, "Thank you for teaching me, Sister. Have a good weekend."

That Saturday, I wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper, and I listed what everyone else had said about that individual. On Monday I gave each student his or her list. Before long, the entire class was smiling. "Really?" I heard whispered. "I never knew that meant anything to anyone!" "I didn't know others liked me so much!"

No one every mentioned those papers in class again...
That group of students moved on. Several years later, after I returned from vacation, my parents met me at the airport. As we were driving home, Mother asked the usual questions about the trip, the weather, my experience in general. There was a slight lull in the conversation. Mother gave Dad a sideways glance and simple said, "Dad?" My father cleared his throat as he usually did before something important. "The Elkunds called last night," he began.

"Really?" I said. "I haven't heard from them in years. I wonder how Mark is."

Dad responded quietly. "Mark was killed in Vietnam. The funeral is tomorrow, and his parents would like it if u could attend."...

I had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. Mark looked so handsome, so mature. All I could think at that moment was Mark, I would all the masking tape in the world if only you would talk to me.

The church was packed with Mark's friends. Why did it have to rain on the day of the funeral? It was difficult enough at the graveside. The pastor said the usual prayers, and the bugler played "Taps." One by one those who loved Mark took a last walk by the coffin.

I was the last one. As i stood there, one of the soldiers who had acted as pallbearer came up to me. "Were u Mark's math teacher?." I nodded as I continued to stare at the coffin. "Mark talked about you a lot" he said.

After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmate headed to Chuck's farmhouse for lunch. Mark's parents were there, obviously waiting for me. "We want to show u someting, " his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket. "They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognise it"

Opening the billfold, he carefully removed 2 worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. I knew without looking that the papers were the one on which I had listed all the good things each of Mark's classmates had said about him. "Thank you so much for doing that," Mark's mother said. "As you can see, Mark treasured it."

Mark's classmates started to gather around us. Charlie smiled rather sheepishly and said "I still have my list. It's in the top drawer of my desk at home." Chuck's wife said, "Chuck asked me to put his in our wedding album." "I have mine too," Marilyn said. ... Then vicki said without batting an eyelash. "i think we all saved our lists."

~* Sharon Jaynes