Bits and Pieces: Meeting my teachers

I have not got many chances to meet my teachers from the old secondary school in Kelantan. They seem to be vanished into the oblivion with no trace of active public life. Maybe busy at home with cucu2, I don’t really know. Maybe I am bit pessimistic into getting to know their whereabouts or just busy doing something not as noble as meeting your own teachers. Looking back to my schooldays I really have nothing to cheer about. I had never have fantastic or memorable moments with my teachers. Teachers would like if their students had won medals for the school… I had never won anything. Teachers would praise you if you had good grades…..I was always at the bottom half in the class. Teachers would remember if you had talents in sports….I could hardly kick a ball or do that stupid triple jump. Teachers would not forget if your name always surfaced in the meeting for being naughty…..I was an angel or rather an ass for so afraid of breaking the rules. You see I was perfect to blend in the school population and gone unnoticed. So I have no recollection for having a meaningful relationship other than the ones in the classroom. What I am trying to say is that I did not learn anything from my teachers. I really feel that way. Is it so cruel to say that ? My humble apologies. But that is the truth. I learnt from buddies a lot and some academic stuff from my own readings. Even the stuff in the class had gone over my head. I just could not grab it hard enough to get me pass the SRP or SPM examinations. I might sound unthankful but just could not help it.

The most painful thing is to remember how your teachers would tell you over and over again that you are a loser….giving you that sorry look that makes you wonder why you were born in the first place. I don’t know how to praise people because I had never heard such phrases when I grew up. But because I know the values of such simple gestures such “ good job!” or “well done” or “there you go, I know you can do it” to a child, I have tried all the time to say to my students or even more so to my kids . It costs nothing but will give tremendous impact to the development of a child. I still long for one.

It has been almost 26 years since I left my school in Pengkalan Chepa, Kleantan. I can be more apologetic now and let the past being the past. Meeting my teachers (they are always my teachers till the end of my life…that’s why I don’t call them ex-teachers) last week has brought back old memories. Whatever they had done to me, whether good or bad, have made me what I am today. And I just could not thank them enough. They have become part of my history, part of my life. They were part of the reasons for me to live and went on living. It’s like a pack of food that your mother stashed in your bag whenever you were going somewhere; she knows somewhere along the journey you might need it.Boy! do I need it? Then will you realize the reasons for the whole thing that has happened to you.

I am thankful for being able to hug and say salaam to my teachers the other day. I don’t know whether I would ever get other chances to do so. Terima kasih, cikgu!