Extra Lessons for the Teacher

A few days ago a photo jogged my memory to an incident that happened about 3 years ago in the classroom. It truly was an ordinary day of juggling personalities, timetable, temperaments, the unexpected, the urgent and the important. Yes – that’s ordinary for the teacher.

I still remember how I exhaled when I was finally left alone in the classroom at lunchtime. At last, the students had gone to recess. (Even now, I exhale-again) Instead of eating my own lunch, it gave me the opportunity to mark assignments; give feedback with a personal touch; reply to messages or phone calls; complete a report; check in with colleagues or the supervisor; and, of course, set up the materials for the afternoon’s activities. Yes, it is expected that all this would be accomplished in half hour- or, so I hoped every day. Taking a bathroom break would be a secondary consideration- as always.

So, you can well imagine how deeply buried I was in marking books when I suddenly realised a child had appeared at my side. My surprise was also due to the fact that this particular child was the smallest, quietest child in my class. She spoke with her eyes most of the time. Even at P.E. her cheers were smiles, a nod and/or fiddly-giggly feet and hands. When I reviewed photos of our field trip and class parties, I noticed that she was overshadowed by the ebullient or the taller or broader students.

My first reaction was to find out if she had a bruised knee or whether she had come to get help for a friend. She said no. I wondered if she wanted to let me know she hadn’t enjoyed her lunch or that she needed help with an assignment. She said no and no again.

My patience became visible to me now. O.K. So, what is it? Did she want to share a tale about her pet or toy or a family member? No. No. No. The light in my patience began to blink when I glimpsed the clock. So, what is it? A drawing or playdough sculpture or… did she just want my presence or permission to sit in the classroom? The clock’s hands turned neon as she responded no, no, no, no.

Just before the clock hands jabbed me and my patience steamed red, the child daintily moved her hands to show me something. I could barely see it. I looked at her and then at the teeny tiny thing held between her small fingers. I looked up at her. I listened to her eyes. She said, “For you.”

“For me?”

She nodded.

As I reached for it I realised my adult fingers were big and clumsy. I smiled as I searched for a place to set this treasure.

“For me! Thank you. Its lovely!”

She beamed.

Next, she produced a flowerhead of these teeny tiny blooms. Had this been a movie there would be angelic music, mist and slow motion. Frankly, I had a million questions about how and where and when and with whom and why? But, the beaming child had already skipped away to play outside.

Almost immediately I noticed the change in my own body. Tension was being released. Affirmation was rising in me too. This was a meaningful gesture from my precious princess. No longer was I finagled by the thought that “the whole world was in my hands.”

I was also tickled by the fact that I nearly blundered. Yes! Had impatience seeped out of me the moment would have been missed. She would never have bestowed the bouquet of tiny gems. Instead, a sour memory would have fomented.

When I twirled the flowerhead, the blooms would separate. Closer inspection made me notice each of the four petals and its trumpet shape. I was in awe of the texture, the rich colours, the hues, the shape and stem of each flower. It is both delicate and strong. Tiny as it is this cluster is a part of the many other clusters that beautify our grounds. It is a hardy perennial that hosts ants, butterflies, bees and hummingbirds. These and other elements make our environment healthy.

At that moment I decided to bookmark this moment. So, I cleared my desk to take a photo. Next, I went for her and took a picture with her too. Even though she was shy she appreciated being the centre of attention.

I told her lots of thank you’s. Why? By that time, my lungs had thanked me for the fresh air; my body thanked me for the struts; and, the other students and colleagues I greeted along the way were grateful for the respite. The giggles were like champagne bubbles to the rest of the day and maybe the week. Above all, my patience quota got a well-needed top-up.

So many times, and in so many ways we take this shrub for granted. Most of us don’t even know its name. To tell the truth, it was in a market in Georgetown, Guyana, that I learned that they call this bush ‘sage’. They use it for tea, and for its medicinal properties. Would you believe that it is used to treat chicken pox, measles and cancers? It is useful for relieving aches as well as for treating wounds and respiratory problems. The oil from this plant is an effective mosquito repellent also.

Even though I have never used the lantana in any of these ways, I now have tremendous respect for it. Similarly, I have great respect for the one who tends our garden and the one who pays the gardener. I have greater respect for the herbalists and the scientists too. Even though my To Do List is long, weighty and spiraling, its obvious that some two, three or more are adding value to the environment and therefore, to our wellbeing. When we become aware, we instinctively show respect.

That moment reminded me that my “big picture” is made up of elements which are both miniscule and valuable. These are elements we tend to devalue or overlook, nuh true? In fact, the longer we neglect them, the more we suffer real consequences.

Let’s use a microscope to view tiny habits we take for granted these days. Ready? Reconsider these small words: please, thank you and you’re welcome. Without these words we slowly erode relationships. By the time we are at a stand-off we don’t even realise how much the absence of this element was a sign that things were tremulous.

Observe another tiny element: tone of voice. Sometimes we say the right word, but our tone conveys impatience or sarcasm or indifference or hostility. Such a tiny thing communicates much, doesn’t it?

Now, let’s put this teeny tiny word under the microscope: I. When we avoid using the word I in healthy affirmations we devalue by deemphasising the truth. For example:

I am well I am capable I am resilient I am a promise I am worthy of respect

I am loved I am brave I am diligent I am a success story

Usually, we insist that children say it with emphasis. But, somehow - if we dare to use it, we adults whisper the I.

Let’s magnify this a bit. Yes, do the following activity and compare the effect. Say aloud, “love you”. Breathe deeply and then say, “I love you”. Notice what happens in your body before and after each phrase is said. Next, imagine someone you know and pretend that you are telling the person each phrase. Now consider what effect it would have on the person you are speaking to. Are you able to discern the difference?

Here is another pair. Say, “Sorry” and then say, “I am sorry.” Say it aloud. Repeat while observing your own posture as well as your tone. They add to the “flowerhead of the message”, no true? Yes. They shape the message. They add shades of meaning and depth of emotion. They bring texture to the memory. And, just like the lantana plant, it has the potential to repel, poison or itch if you do not handle it properly.

So, my friend, you can now appreciate how transformative that moment was. I am humbled that this angelic princess interrupted my ordinary day in the classroom. Even though it was a teeny tiny moment, it became my “extraordinary extra lesson”. Thank you, Princess.

Teeny tiny gems occur in other ways too. Can you think of any? Perhaps it occurs in other areas of life. Hhmmmm, what do you think? Please share them with me in the feedback. It’s time to do an audit, isn't it?

Photo Credits to :

Karl Fraser

Gail Fraser