In My Day…

There are times I sit down and think about my primary and high schoolteachers, when I was a student many years ago. It is during these very times that I wish I were a teacher when I was a student. Yes, instead of being a teacher today.

When I remember how we used to respect our teachers (and fear them, in equal measure!) in those good old days, I shake my head wistfully.

In my day, teachers were respected members of the society. They used to enjoy being referred to as teachers. Teaching was a sought-after career in my day.

I remember I feared entering the staffroom even when called by a teacher. I would ask myself a million and one questions: Why does Mr. … wish to see me – in the staffroom? What wrong have I done? Am I presentable enough to enter the staffroom? Is there any teacher I don’t get along with (and is he/she in school today?)?

Once inside the staffroom, some teachers would start asking what wrong you had done so that they could take part in meting out “punishment”. Some would “describe” you in a most discomfiting fashion. They would say, for instance: “Your nose is as long (and crooked) as that of your father; You are as lazy as your mother; You are walking like the infamous village hag; Your head has sharp corners akin to those of a box of chalk” and so on and so forth.

We used to leave the staffroom reduced to nothing wishing never again to visit such “suffering” upon ourselves.

I also used to fear meeting with a teacher outside the school (especially during the weekends and school holidays). On espying a teacher coming in my direction, I would change direction or dive into a nearby bush. That’s as serious as it was.

This fear would be heightened when a teacher knocked on our door (at home) on a cool Saturday evening. On hearing the teacher’s voice outside, I would start shaking like a leaf on a windy day. He has surely come to report on me to my parents, I would fearfully think.

But brushing that thought aside, I would compose myself to receive my teacher – in my best manners.

Well, today…

But these days, teachers are not as esteemed as they were, say, twenty years ago. Respect for teachers has dwindled. And the teaching career is for people who have not got a chance to study anything else (that needs higher marks to study!)

A woman is regarded in low esteem when she announces her bid to get married – to a teacher. “A teacher? Why a teacher? Do you want to tell us that there are no other befitting men in “worthwhile” professions who are worthy of your hand?” the woman’s father would ask, eyes bulging; nerves strained.

The remuneration, too, is not very enticing. It can hardly meet a teacher’s basic needs. Thus, some teachers resort to setting up small businesses (for instance, selling vegetables and other groceries) to supplement their salaries.

Students nowadays don’t think twice about entering the staffroom. Some of them don’t even knock when they get in. when I call one student to the staffroom he/she comes with a friend as an escort. In my day, this would have been an abomination. Some even come to the staffroom to chat with teachers. Come to think of it!

Students today can call you by your name (without the titles Mr., Mrs. or Miss so and so!) out loud in the street. It’s like they are calling their buddies. This reminds me: Once, two years ago, I was invited to a wedding by a friend of mine. As I was in the queue waiting to be served with food, a student of mine shot from wherever he’d been and came and stood behind me.

When I got to the server, I had to lean so 5hat I could whisper to her (the server) tat I’d be honoured to be served…with an extra spoon of cabbages. She did so, and my nosy student heard it all. It is then that he tugged at my shirt to catch my attention. I was surprised to see him there. We exchanged pleasantries and left it at that.

Come Monday I had a lesson in that boy’s class. In the middle of the lesson, the boy raised his hand and asked me why I had been greedy at the wedding reception.

A hot flush rose up my cheek, and before I could do anything about it, he shouted out for the whole class to hear: “The teacher asked for more food than the rest of the guys at the wedding reception.” He burst out laughing and the rest of the class followed suit. By the time I restored “order” in the class the “damage” had already been done.

That was two years ago.

Today my head is heavy with thought. I am hankering after and exceedingly pining for the day when the teaching profession will regain its lost colour. But will this day ever come?