Reflections!

It was late, and she still had to go through a pile of assignments, grade them and enter the marks.  The strains of the soft music wafted through the room, cocooning the space in its warm, honey tones. The pools of yellow light added cheer around the tall floor lamps, as if to reinforce, she was not alone. That’s a teacher’s life. Prepare, teach, evaluate! Time just flew from one to the other.

Sheila was popular among the students; they loved her positive attitude and her tales from round the world. Her personal stories were a mixed bag of trials, tribulations, and successes.

“Another tall tale!” soon changed to, “Gosh another challenge overcome! She is such an inspiration!”

And that was endorsed by all her colleagues too, even by her jealous enemies, on the surface. Of course, they could never fathom what everyone was so gung-ho about. They lacked the depth, I think.

Grade 10 students were gearing up for their board exams, there was so much to prepare: prose, poetry, writing skills. She had devised various strategies to enhance their sorry vocabulary and poor writing skills. But they had a long way to go.

“Bindu, Sunil, Freida and Ayesha will be 4 captains for the Writing challenge, class.” That was a month back. The four captains were to lead their teams in adding words to their vocabulary, introducing idioms and proverbs as well as sharing a motivational quote each day. The class had erupted in a babble of protests, “No!” “Not fair!” “It’s too much work Ma’am!” “We have to study Math and Science!”

“Excuse me students, in which language do you study Math and Science? And geography? And history?” Silence! “Yes please? I am waiting. Do you know it has been observed that poor linguistic skills lead to misinterpretation of problems and questions? Thus, even though a student who may be well versed with the process, may get a wrong answer simply, because of her or his inability to comprehend a given question correctly. All Scientific research and papers are presented in impeccable English as are their speeches.” A shy giggle could be heard at the back. She had their attention.

“OK, guys its just a matter of few months and you are investing in all the subjects through this project.” She drilled home the importance, and the short span they had to invest. “You shall be rewarded with your internal assessments based on the outcome of your learning, which has to be markedly improved from the state it is in now.” “ Even Bindu?” asked some backbencher incredulously. Her famous smile lit up her face as she nodded, “Yes, there’s always room for improvement!”

Reluctantly the motley lot gave in. They had to brainstorm ideas, they had to put up their learning on the boards and also reflect on it, in all their tasks: oral, written, and aural! She would make them write a short reflection every day. They had to reflect on their learnings, personal growth, and visions. Many mumbled a lot those days, under their breath.

The Principal, a wise lady watched the goings on as a silent witness. She was listening to great motivational quotes being exchanged among the students:

Never stop learning,  because life never stops teaching!

Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire!

You will never find time; you have to make time!

Success isn’t just what you accomplish in life, its about what you inspire others to do!

To hear the students sharing such thoughts was music to her ears. She summoned Sheila to her office.

“Congratulations Sheila Ma’am! I love what you are doing with the students. The halls of the school are resounding with such lovely quotes and inspiration. Can we take it to the other classes?” Sheila was pleasantly surprised because it was not easy to get praise from the tough Doyen.

“Thank you, Ma’am! Yes definitely! Let me speak to my department.”

As she walked out her head was buzzing with ideas. After all, she wanted to implement change in the writing skills of her students. In her heart of hearts, she knew that it would lead to higher self esteem and that alone would guarantee better skills all around.

Then, Sheila had a brain wave. She shared it with her colleagues in the ‘English Department’ and everyone gave it a thumbs up. After it was discussed with the Principal, the students were made aware.

Every week they would have a writing competition, on the spot. They could access their computers and the library, but within an hour they would have to hand in their work. It was to be an event like none before. The class that garnered the maximum entries would get maximum points. Then there was the matter of quality, the best write ups in the various sections would be awarded points too. So, each student could make their class a winner!

Perfect atmosphere for all Sheila’s jealous adversaries to complain about cheap popularity, inviting too much work, etc., etc. Suddenly in all classes the word wall kept building up overnight. Idioms and proverbs were being exchanged during breaks. Imposition was writing an essay on ‘Why do dogs bark, cats mew and children chatter?’ a -la Anne Frank’s Diary. More books flew off the shelves of the library than ever before.

There was even a competition to name the writing contest. One simple name won maximum votes… “Did you write today?” The bookworms were thriving. None shunned them, rather they were becoming popular. The students made sure the shy ones were roped in and everyone in class was suitably prepared to turn in a story, anecdote, poem, or article.

There was a zing in the air. Everyone and everything has a life, has energy, of its own and sometimes they snowball into ventures beyond the imagination of the one who has conceived them. The competition became fierce.

All is fair in love and war. Strategies were planned by students and teachers. Yet once in a blue moon, someone would let the cat out of the bag and all hell would let loose. ‘No pain, no gain’ was heard often as no one was let off the hook, cometh the hour to write.

The silence was a joy to behold. The Principal was already planning the shining trophy for Sheila Ma’am, definitely the apple of her eye!  

Hell, hath no fury as a woman scorned. Raima Ma’am a math teacher found her blood boiling with so much emphasis lavished on a mere language. As if it was not bad enough that it started in one class, but the limit was reached when the madness was extended to the whole school. Languages? Whoever gave it any attention? Students marks, entrance into hallowed colleges, all depended on percentages and they were accrued in Math and Science, not in English!

She walked up to the Principal’s office, fuming. The thunderous knocking indicated the storm that was brewing. “Good morning, Ma’am! Have you seen what Sheila is doing? She thinks students need to study English and that will get them the Golden ticket! Audacious!”                                                          

  “Good morning Raima Ma’am, and how are you this morning?” she replied breezily.                      “Ma’am I have been holding my tongue these past few weeks and things have just taken a turn for the worse. You are well aware that the Board does not award more than 85% marks in languages. We have all been in those Examiner’s room and heard those instructions and moreover seen the results! Year after year. Its only Math and Science where the students have secured 100% year on year, every year.”

“ Raima Ma’am,” said the wise voice,” When did you last see the students across classes come together like this? When did you last see the classrooms ringing with positive talk and peers helping each other, for learning together and achieving SMART goals?”

Raima couldn’t believe her ears… who would come to her for tuitions, if English ruled the roost? Her face turned a deep red as rage brewed within her, so Sheila had cast her spell on the Principal too. It was an open war now!

To kill two birds with a stone, she wrote an anonymous letter to the management citing, poor performance of students in Math, as they were forced to spend more time learning languages. As the wickedness rubbed her hands with glee, an impromptu visit by the Chairman was announced.

At the assembly, a student was summoned to say a few words about the latest project in English.

She climbed the steps to the podium confidently and began with the customary salutation and greeting.

“The last few weeks have been a marathon in learning a language we have hereto ignored. The beauty of words have been discovered in games, crosswords, and the ubiquitous quizzes. The classroom buzz is about words, phrases, idioms, and proverbs. But the best time of the week is when the entire school settles down to write their thoughts on the word prompt every Friday.

They remind me of bees at work, meticulously churning nectar to honey or monks meditating, as they reflect on the word, probe their minds, pushing their horizons, coming up with stories and poems one better than the other. Our teachers are proud of us, but what is better is that we are proud of our achievements. But the proof of the pudding is in the eating… so, Sir I invite you to partake of the honey we churn every week when we settle down to: “Did you write today?”

The proud guest stood up clapping, slowly everyone joined the applause. “I am exhilarated to hear this from a young learner. This is a reflection of great learning which is taking place here and I am glad to be a part of it. Who is at the helm of such a project, Ma’am?” he asked turning towards the Principal. Lifting her chin with pride, a smile playing on her lips, she answered, “All the teachers have been enthusiastic, but I must confess it is the brainchild of Sheila Ma’am.”

As the golden rays of the sun penetrated through the fog and mist, the buzz in the corridors continued. Students were preparing for their writing to be submitted later on that day. Little heads buried in books, some in discussions, some seeking to brainstorm with their buddies as they reflected what, when and where? Watching them on her rounds, the Principal wondered what was the word. But did it really matter? They wrote their hearts out and they were writing so well, she was considering publishing an anthology.