Triggering
the imagination of my Year 3’s helped me immensely to sensitize them to people
and different perspectives with the help of interesting and thought-provoking
news clips.
Each
morning we would share some good and bad news. The short dialogue would end
with a moral conclusion that would be pasted onto the White Board.
I always
found the children completely engrossed and excited to contribute their
opinions. Their innocence came through along with their determined intentions
to bring about positive change in seemingly hopeless situations.
The news
clip was about a School for Handicapped and Disabled Children. There were
pictures depicting a special day organised to raise funds and in view of
promoting charity. We read the news clip together and there was silence which
indicated a sense of sadness. Some students tried to escape my questions
finding it hard to deal with the emotions whilst others related stories of
friends and families who were caring for a child with special needs.
As we came
closer to drawing the conclusion, an artistic student in my class named “A”
broke down into tears. All the children were taken aback. For a moment, I
questioned my approach to the topic as well thinking I might have gone a little
too far to have upset her to the point of a break down.
I carried
her to my table and made her sit down. Tears rolled endlessly down her cheeks.
I comforted her with my arms and she hugged me for a long time.
I waited
for her to gather her feelings. She didn’t appear at peace. I held her hand. “It’s
alright “A”. Every child is special. Especially to the parents.” She nodded
with understanding and broke down again. This time, she opened her heart to me.
“Teacher, I have a baby brother. He was born with deformity. He has problem
with speech too. My mum is always with him. We take him to the hospital every
week for tests. He can smile.” She gulped her emotions.
I hugged
her again. “I’m sorry to hear that “A”. It must be hard for everyone at home.
And baby brothers are anyways such a blessing! Are you able to help out your
mum with him?” I asked her trying to channel her emotions towards a
constructive plan.
“We all
help her but she is always worried. She cries a lot teacher.” Her words
reflected pounding, hidden and locked up pain. I tried my best to comfort her
by eliciting the value of every life and creation and giving her ideas on how
she could talk to her mum to ease her pain.
At that
point in life, I was on the ‘listening end’. I was the teacher.
Just about
a month ago, my children were at school. I was at home with my little boy. Suddenly
I received the news of my husband suffering a heart attack at work. He was
fortunate to reach the hospital in time and by Allah’s Grace he was treated in
time to survive this jolt.
I rushed to
the hospital with my children who had to wait in the car park as children were
not allowed in the ICU. I was alone and it was a traumatic week. Relatives and
friends who heard news called me day and night and each time, I broke down
despite the strong nerves.
A week
later, my husband came home and there was so much to be grateful for. I, still
quite shaken got engrossed in following the dietary chart and managing his
moods. In another few days, my children completed their final exams and at
lunch I finally found a little peace and time to talk to them.
“So when is
your school party?” I asked my son who had been awaiting the day with the
simple desire of wearing his football attire. He fumbled with the rice using
his spoon. “Mama, you know I told my Islamic Teacher that my baba had a heart
attack and she made a prayer in the classroom. All the children prayed for his
life.”
I stopped.
His words struck me like lightening. I had been so occupied that I had not been
able to hear out his fears or anxieties. His little voice had diminished
somewhere in the chaotic weeks. I cried like a child that night. I felt guilty
about being absent and at the same time feeling immense gratitude towards the
teacher who had provided my child with the confidence to walk up to her and
share his emotions. She offered to sit through that “Sound Hearing” that gave
him the courage to get through the painful moments. She had filled in the space
in my absence.
I
understood the relentless crying of my dear student with this personal trauma. Sometimes
children hold back their tears or fears understanding the intensity of the pain
their parents are going through. They keep a brave front at home to offer their
support and maintain an uncomplicated existence.
Parents are
our best friends. As much as I’d like to believe myself to be the most
approachable and friendly parent, I do know that there will be times when my
child will need that ‘Sound Hearing’. And I pray that there will always be that
“One” teacher who will make time for him to offer a listening ear.
