When I saw the reader’s digest insert asking readers to talk about the teacher who had made a difference in their life, I immediately knew I had to talk about not one but a bunch of them, or more precisely the English Department at B.C.M. College, Kottayam (Kerala) where I studied for my under graduation.
At its zenith the department consisted of 14 teachers and just walking into that tiny but overflowing department was an experience in itself. Almost all of them have retired now but I seem to have managed to keep in touch with them precisely because of what they did to me. But I need to do flashback here if I need to make myself understood.
My childhood, unlike those of most children my age, was a very quiet one. Living in a flat is the bane of the Gulf emigrant. And not being from a hi-fi family ensured I didn’t have too many activities to worry about. Added to that my shyness ensured I was a very quiet and withdrawn child.
So when I was forced to return to ‘God’s own country’ thanks to the constantly changing immigration rules of my country of residence, I found myself entering college life in my 15th year. At that time, pre-degree (the equivalent of +2) was a college phenomenon. So there I was, an overweight and painfully shy teenager entering the portals of college with the bare minimum command of her mother tongue. In addition, the fact that I was away from my mom whom I was closest to, and the absence of a suitable substitute in the form of a maternal grandma or even a friend, only made me feel terrible, coupled with the fact that this was a move I had never wanted to make in the first place.
On day one, the crammed classroom with 90+ students did nothing to alleviate my feelings of inadequacy, considering the fact that I knew absolutely no one around. But I managed to plead my way into a group who became my friends. Thus my first day of college passed off uneventfully but not too happily.
Day two was the turning point when one of my English teachers walked in. when I was asked to read out a lesson in class she made me feel special when she identified me as once having been her neighbour, thus setting me apart from the rest of the class. It was immaterial that I hardly remembered having been to her home. The fact that I had been singled out made me feel I was maybe somebody after all.
Another highlight came a few days later when in the grammar class, for the instant dictation test we had, I was the only one to get all the spellings right. My teacher then congratulated me and handed me a sweet before proudly announcing that I was the first person in all her years of teaching to get it all right in the very first class itself. That did a lot to boost my ego- something I badly needed.
And not only did I find encouragement in my teachers, they gave me something else I badly needed – recognition for the individual I was: something I had been denied a long time. Eventually I went on to do my under graduation as well at the same college.
In the five years I spent at the institution, I found several mentors and role models as well. When one of my role models brought about the ban on smoking in public, she gained one hell of a secret fan.
I looked forward to the classes of our poetry expert especially since they were filled with inspiring literary thoughts. The head of the department was another person who role modelled in many ways for some awkward teenagers especially in the way she got involved in unusual activities. Her classes too were so inspiring and I would try my best to ensure I was one of those at the end of the year to get chocolates for a full attendance.
My grammar teacher with her down-to-earth attitude changed the concept of the high and mighty teacher. And the teacher who identified me as her neighbour? We found that we had much more in common than just location. I ended up constantly turning to her with my academics-related problems and we found we both had a common streak of idealism that bonded us.
Another teacher I loved shared the same name though a different spelling and we have ended up good friends. I remembered her Literary Criticism classes where we were to give our appreciation of a poem. The first time is the most difficult, as we all know, since never in your life would you have attempted something of this kind. I wrote my own piece and when I heard my teacher’s version, I found it very different from the way I had idealised it. But she read mine and appreciated the real good piece of work I had done. That encouraged me to write more.
After the elections, when I became the magazine editor of the college, no one in the department was surprised. The teacher in charge of handling the college magazine went around with the attitude – Tina’s here so I don’t have to do anything now. And truly that was what happened. I did almost 90% of the work and it did indeed become a masterpiece in its own right. So much that the teacher in charge the next year, and the current head of the department, asked me if I could become the editor again! This teacher is currently one of my main pillars of strength – my friend, advisor and guide.
When I left the college, some of these most beloved teachers left with me. But the change they created in me was immense. Many people who visited me after my first two years in college were astonished to find a gregarious individual in place of the withdrawn one. But that is the external change these 14 women wrought in me.
Internally, they inspired me and let me see visions of a new heaven. They made me realize that I was a very special person, in spite of what people said. They helped me find me.
And it is because of them, that I have returned two years ago to try and fill their oversized shoes as a teacher in the same institution. And whenever my students now tell me I am inspirational and a delight, I think back to the time, a decade ago when a very shy and in confident individual stepped into B.C.M. and was transformed by 14 extremely loving and generous hearts. Thank you my dear teachers.
At its zenith the department consisted of 14 teachers and just walking into that tiny but overflowing department was an experience in itself. Almost all of them have retired now but I seem to have managed to keep in touch with them precisely because of what they did to me. But I need to do flashback here if I need to make myself understood.
My childhood, unlike those of most children my age, was a very quiet one. Living in a flat is the bane of the Gulf emigrant. And not being from a hi-fi family ensured I didn’t have too many activities to worry about. Added to that my shyness ensured I was a very quiet and withdrawn child.
So when I was forced to return to ‘God’s own country’ thanks to the constantly changing immigration rules of my country of residence, I found myself entering college life in my 15th year. At that time, pre-degree (the equivalent of +2) was a college phenomenon. So there I was, an overweight and painfully shy teenager entering the portals of college with the bare minimum command of her mother tongue. In addition, the fact that I was away from my mom whom I was closest to, and the absence of a suitable substitute in the form of a maternal grandma or even a friend, only made me feel terrible, coupled with the fact that this was a move I had never wanted to make in the first place.
On day one, the crammed classroom with 90+ students did nothing to alleviate my feelings of inadequacy, considering the fact that I knew absolutely no one around. But I managed to plead my way into a group who became my friends. Thus my first day of college passed off uneventfully but not too happily.
Day two was the turning point when one of my English teachers walked in. when I was asked to read out a lesson in class she made me feel special when she identified me as once having been her neighbour, thus setting me apart from the rest of the class. It was immaterial that I hardly remembered having been to her home. The fact that I had been singled out made me feel I was maybe somebody after all.
Another highlight came a few days later when in the grammar class, for the instant dictation test we had, I was the only one to get all the spellings right. My teacher then congratulated me and handed me a sweet before proudly announcing that I was the first person in all her years of teaching to get it all right in the very first class itself. That did a lot to boost my ego- something I badly needed.
And not only did I find encouragement in my teachers, they gave me something else I badly needed – recognition for the individual I was: something I had been denied a long time. Eventually I went on to do my under graduation as well at the same college.
In the five years I spent at the institution, I found several mentors and role models as well. When one of my role models brought about the ban on smoking in public, she gained one hell of a secret fan.
I looked forward to the classes of our poetry expert especially since they were filled with inspiring literary thoughts. The head of the department was another person who role modelled in many ways for some awkward teenagers especially in the way she got involved in unusual activities. Her classes too were so inspiring and I would try my best to ensure I was one of those at the end of the year to get chocolates for a full attendance.
My grammar teacher with her down-to-earth attitude changed the concept of the high and mighty teacher. And the teacher who identified me as her neighbour? We found that we had much more in common than just location. I ended up constantly turning to her with my academics-related problems and we found we both had a common streak of idealism that bonded us.
Another teacher I loved shared the same name though a different spelling and we have ended up good friends. I remembered her Literary Criticism classes where we were to give our appreciation of a poem. The first time is the most difficult, as we all know, since never in your life would you have attempted something of this kind. I wrote my own piece and when I heard my teacher’s version, I found it very different from the way I had idealised it. But she read mine and appreciated the real good piece of work I had done. That encouraged me to write more.
After the elections, when I became the magazine editor of the college, no one in the department was surprised. The teacher in charge of handling the college magazine went around with the attitude – Tina’s here so I don’t have to do anything now. And truly that was what happened. I did almost 90% of the work and it did indeed become a masterpiece in its own right. So much that the teacher in charge the next year, and the current head of the department, asked me if I could become the editor again! This teacher is currently one of my main pillars of strength – my friend, advisor and guide.
When I left the college, some of these most beloved teachers left with me. But the change they created in me was immense. Many people who visited me after my first two years in college were astonished to find a gregarious individual in place of the withdrawn one. But that is the external change these 14 women wrought in me.
Internally, they inspired me and let me see visions of a new heaven. They made me realize that I was a very special person, in spite of what people said. They helped me find me.
And it is because of them, that I have returned two years ago to try and fill their oversized shoes as a teacher in the same institution. And whenever my students now tell me I am inspirational and a delight, I think back to the time, a decade ago when a very shy and in confident individual stepped into B.C.M. and was transformed by 14 extremely loving and generous hearts. Thank you my dear teachers.
