It was quite a moment, looking at my new students who have just completed the trauma of their orientation week. With every curious eye on me, and some standing reluctantly as others stood up, I greeted them with my usual, friendly cliche "Hi class". Their response? "Hi, sir". Seeing and sensing the curiosity in their eyes, I was ready to turn the pronounced weak and probably ensnared into courageous, high-spirited warriors.
Introducing myself, one student drew my attention. I thought he was ready to say something interesting about himself. Calling him to start off, he walked to the front, reluctantly. Our eyes met. He looked at me and sensing his curiosity, I encouraged him to say something interesting he likes. Struggling through, he broke the silence, uttering something comprehensible, in just 2 to 3 sentences.
Later, at the end of the class hour, I asked him how he felt when I called him. He was frank and courageous enough to say, "Mr Wee, you are not an English teacher. You are an English philosopher."
Shocked, I further probed him. "My school teachers did not speak the way you spoke. I find your words and lesson deep. Can I see you sometimes?" By all means. You're most welcome to visit me in the unit. That was not our last conversation.
For the next few weeks, he dropped by to pour out his feelings and thoughts with the hope of getting more philosophical feedback. As usual, I played my newfound role, not as a teacher but a counsellor. I saw lots of confusion and hurts within him. Later, he kept his distance and I kept mine too.
Life went on as usual but the end wasn't encouraging at all. I didn't get to see him participate much. He was back to his quiet, passive nature until he left at the end of the one-year programme.
I thought to myself... If only I could, I would want my students to feel comfortable with me, being a "teacher", counsellor, language tutor and facilitator of learning. Also a philosopher, as he saw me.
What a beautifully new discovered passion. I'm impressed.
Yes, a teacher must play many rules. I was a bit surprised when I learned that your students had to come in unison, welcome you with, "Good morning, sir." While it shows the students what it means to have discipline, that requirement seems a bit old-fashioned.
You reminded me of our junior high school history teacher who often seem to get sidetracked into lectures on how to live.
I remember having to caution my college students to listen to what I said carefully and think about it rather than spending so much time writing down everything that I said in their notes.
The Harlem Renaissance remains exciting, inspiring, and irresistible in the first half of the 21st Century for the same reason that the many people who lived it found it exciting, inspiring, and irresistible in the first half of the 20th Century. De
