My favourite teacher

The other day, I was reading an article (can't remember where) which said it just needs one significant adult to transform a child's life. An adult who will listen, not judge, and see the child for who they are, not the expectations society may have based on their background.

For me, that would have to be my primary 4 teacher (and 6 and 7 - same teacher). My first 2 teachers (I had the same one for P1 and 2) didn't like the fact I could read, write and count really rather well before I even went to school (I was a child genius - it was all downhill from there). So, while they were trying to teach the rest of the class their letters, I was bored. Not a good thing for me. When bored I talk. I really talk. That didn't go down well.

Because I could already do these things, when those I sat with were struggling, I helped them. Again, that was talking and didn't go down well. Eventually, the bullies in the class were at my table and they would play on my helping nature to finish their work quickly and make me look bad.

Perhaps I could have been quiet and just got on with the work in front of me, but I was 5 years old and helping people was (and still is) a significant part of my character. I just can't stop myself, even though I have been hurt many times because of it.

Something which didn't help with my work was the teachers kept putting me to the back of the class. I needed to be closer to the front to see the blackboard, especially after my glasses were broken. The teacher didn't think there was anything wrong with people scratching the lenses. When my Mum went to the school to get something done, she was told "Well, it's a novelty for them". Yeah, like I just wore them for decoration!

So, I got to P4. Another teacher. But this one was different. One of the first things she did was move me to the front of the class. Finally I could see the blackboard properly! She also saw I could do most of the 3 Rs standing on my head, so rather than making me stay with the class, she let me carry on further through the workbooks. It was better than me getting bored. It also let me see there was things I as good at. Up till that point, in school, there didn't seem anything I could do well.

No longer was I bored. No longer did I feel I was different and stupid. Finally, I could begin to be who I was again.

It's really hard to sum up the difference that teacher made to my life. She made me believe in myself. She also respected me. I very much reciprocated that. As they say, you have to show respect to earn it.

By the time I left primary school, I was top-of-the-class in most subjects (spelling and sports still defeat me). I was so far ahead in Maths that the school had run out of workbooks for me. They got some in, but apparently they were secondary school level. I got a lot wrong, as my teacher didn't have the knowledge or time to teach me that level of Maths (she did have a whole class to teach too), but she let me try. She let me fail. She encouraged me and reassured me it was okay.

For all she did for me, I am eternally grateful. If I ever got the chance too, I would let her know.

A couple of years after leaving primary school, it celebrated its 75 anniversary and held an open day. Naturally, I went along. As I was talking with the headteacher (who also totally rocked), my P1/P2 teacher came to speak to my Mum and I. I can't recall the words of the conversation, but she told Mum how proud she was to have been my teacher and was pleased I was doing so well.

I don't think I had a lot of grace towards that teacher back then. I was polite, but curt. I was still hurting from the past. Now I realise that was not the way to go, but I was still a child. Now, I pray I would have the wisdom and grace to show Christian love towards her, should I ever met her.