Teachers, some nasty, some great
Well, the first assessment is over and reports are good as far as I am concerned. J is not all that happy. He was, I suppose expecting a report saying that he is the father of a super child. My own expectations are much lower. But he still came way over my vision. The teacher said he was shy and did not interact with her at all.
That is not surprising considering the fact that I was shy too, scared to look at the teacher and scared of being asked questions. Yet, I was smarter than most in my class. My teachers had problem believing that I was writing my home assignment essay’s without parental help. They always assumed that no child my age could write so well. I suppose if I had not been that shy, they might have noticed me and seen how good I was, but I never gave them a chance. I was so shy that I was almost like wallpaper blending into the background and disappearing.
I particularly remember a Mrs. Ramachandran, our English teacher; she used to take special pleasure in telling the class that I was cheating as obviously my father was doing all my homework. It made me retreat more and more into my shell, but in many ways it pleased me too because, I used to wonder, “Wow!! Am I that good?”
Thom is much the same, only he has me on his side and I think I might be able to prod him to do well in class rather than just when doing home assignments.
I wonder where Mrs. Ramachandran is? Is she dead, alive or in hell? She is one of the few teachers’ I remember from the Indian community school in Libya around the years 1981 to 1984.
Then there was Mrs. Aggarwal, the Hindi teacher; she tried so hard with me. I don’t know what she saw in me but she kept trying to draw me out. But I was too stubborn and the poor dear never succeeded. My warmest salutes to her for her belief in me. Tara Bhaskar was another wonder teacher, again an English teacher. Then of course there was the wonderful Mrs. Iyengar, the math teacher, who made all her students brilliant performers. She brought out the best in us. As did Mrs. Ramanujam. Then there was the unforgettable Mr. Cherian, who a blot on all math teachers, he was not a teacher rather a lazy moron, who never taught anything and all his students ended up failing. He had six or seven daughters, all created in the hope that the next would be a boy. Well he never had a boy.
That is not surprising considering the fact that I was shy too, scared to look at the teacher and scared of being asked questions. Yet, I was smarter than most in my class. My teachers had problem believing that I was writing my home assignment essay’s without parental help. They always assumed that no child my age could write so well. I suppose if I had not been that shy, they might have noticed me and seen how good I was, but I never gave them a chance. I was so shy that I was almost like wallpaper blending into the background and disappearing.
I particularly remember a Mrs. Ramachandran, our English teacher; she used to take special pleasure in telling the class that I was cheating as obviously my father was doing all my homework. It made me retreat more and more into my shell, but in many ways it pleased me too because, I used to wonder, “Wow!! Am I that good?”
Thom is much the same, only he has me on his side and I think I might be able to prod him to do well in class rather than just when doing home assignments.
I wonder where Mrs. Ramachandran is? Is she dead, alive or in hell? She is one of the few teachers’ I remember from the Indian community school in Libya around the years 1981 to 1984.
Then there was Mrs. Aggarwal, the Hindi teacher; she tried so hard with me. I don’t know what she saw in me but she kept trying to draw me out. But I was too stubborn and the poor dear never succeeded. My warmest salutes to her for her belief in me. Tara Bhaskar was another wonder teacher, again an English teacher. Then of course there was the wonderful Mrs. Iyengar, the math teacher, who made all her students brilliant performers. She brought out the best in us. As did Mrs. Ramanujam. Then there was the unforgettable Mr. Cherian, who a blot on all math teachers, he was not a teacher rather a lazy moron, who never taught anything and all his students ended up failing. He had six or seven daughters, all created in the hope that the next would be a boy. Well he never had a boy.
posted by Choomma at 9:31 AM
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