Note: So this one was slightly difficult to
write, primarily because I am confessing a weakness here, and you know how
rarely that happens with me. Also, it is comparatively longer, so start with it
when you have 15 minutes to spare.
If you’re reading
this then in all probability you have been exposed to my extremely emotional
over reactions at some point or the other. I subjected my kids to the drama
recently, and I've been feeling horribly guilty since.
It all started with
an (awesome) activity I wanted to do with the kids, called the “Web of Life”.
It basically has kids sitting in a circle holding a card with the name of some
element of nature (sun, frog, tree etc). There’s also a string which you pass
to any element that you feel you have a connection with (like sun can pass to
tree, tree can pass to squirrel) and then you talk about the connection.
Eventually you end up with a web connecting the different students/elements.
And you see how everything in nature is interrelated. How the key elements (like
the sun, water) are linked to almost everything. You get how incredible this
activity is? I was insanely excited to do this in class! (yes, things like this
excite me nowadays J )
And then came the
day. I reached school with all my enthusiasm over flowing. However I only managed
to get the kids in the last hour of the day (after heavy coercion and an
exchange of classes with the Hindi teacher- she protects her classes like a
dragoness protects her eggs). I should have anticipated at that point that the
end of the day fatigue could pose some trouble but I was blinded by all that I
thought the activity could achieve.
So off we marched to
an empty room and sat in a circle, with our placards up, familiar with the rules
of the game and ready to learn. But then came the first murmur from one group,
I ignored it and gave the string to the “sun” to start. The “sun” passed it to “water”,
after making a brilliant water cycle connection- I was SO happy then, I almost didn't hear the murmurs become louder. But soon the brilliant connections were getting
drowned in the many side conversations, I used my first weapon- the stare. That
worked for like 10 seconds and then back to the mumbling, then came my second
weapon- the sincere request. That worked for like 5 minutes, and then they got
back to their games of pushing-shoving-hitting. By now my frustration level was
quite high. I could see all my ideas of learning and fun crashing all around
me. And it was all downhill from there, I yelled some but to no avail. No one
was listening, everyone was talking and I snapped. Out came the downpour in
front of 40 kids. I said something like, please go home and proceeded to take
the string from each kid with tears rolling throughout. I wasn't thinking
anymore, there was complete silence in the room with my sobs being the only
sound. I rolled the string together, and just left. I just could not stop
crying. After a point I think I was crying just over the embarrassment of what
I had done. And then it became about all my failures in the classroom, and then
it became about self doubt. My auto driver was quite freaked out.
I calmed down in an
hour or so and I realized the disaster that I’d made. It was so unfair on my
part to subject the kids to so much drama. I was the adult in the situation, I
should’ve controlled myself. It led to a deeper self reflection session, about
which I’ll tell you in person.
I walked into class
the next day, with nothing but honesty. I spoke to them, and I told them
exactly what happened and the reason for my reaction. I also apologized to
them, and you know what, they understood. I was flooded with “sorry” cards
(that made me feel super guilty) with personal notes. The messages got me teary
eyed again (I really need to do something about this!).
To anyone on the
outside, this whole incident might seem unnecessary and weak and what not. And
I agree,it was all that and more. But it happened, and somehow my weakness
strengthened my relationship with my students. They've seen me fail, and now they’ll
see me spring back on the path with new found enthusiasm and they’ll learn
about never giving up. Ten years later, I’ll go to visit them in their college
and we’ll laugh about the time “Didi broke down in class.”
