I am my only Hope!

The classroom was quite detached from the rest of the school on the first floor of the Primary section. Some parents walked in to drop off their children as it was a new school and a new environment altogether.

As “H” walked in I noticed that his mother was at his toes whispering and trying to assure him that it was going to be alright. The father greeted me and in that short dialogue figured out that we both were of the same country and shortly after that he motioned his wife to leave as he sweetly stated, “I’m not worried anymore,” translating his faith in me.

Quite soon I discovered that this tall genius was suffering from moderate symptoms of ADHD. A shadow teacher was arranged in view of pushing his performance and primarily to facilitate his completion of class work.

As a teacher, I’ve always worked on maintaining a cordial, motivated and inspiring learning environment for all the students in class. In order to achieve this, I made sure that every child in class was accounted for and enjoyed that celebrity status.

The discussions that often followed our critical thinking questions, were targeted around analysis, evaluations and creativity. I was happy to see the enthusiastic involvement of this child who always came up with the most unique perspective helping me understand that ADHD has nothing to do with the intellect which in these cases proved far more superior then others.

Like every other child in class, I applauded his deep thinking and tried my best to keep his spirits up. In a matter of a month, his essays began to indicate a dislike for the new school and class, particularly his classmates. Luckily at that very point in time, we were studying a reading story named “Going with the Flow” which taught about changes and what it takes to adapt to these changes.

He missed his old school in Pakistan immensely and wished to transfer back soon. I walked up to him one day and gave him some references from the story to help him accept this change in life and told him that his class mates were also very friendly and kind and he would settle in soon. As I looked across the class to win him some of their nods, I found the class response careless and cold. I thought to myself, “They probably need more time to sensitize themselves to this special needs child.” After all they were just 10 years old.

Term 2 was the hardest. The community revolted against a teacher who gave preference to children from her own community. I was called in by Administration on many occasions to give clarifications on being tagged unfair and unjust. I faced the hatred of some parents on meetings where they openly said that they would talk to the authorities to get me replaced.

This antagonism was tiring and there were days when I felt completed defeated. I loved these children a lot and strangely felt the strong emotion their side too, but it was controlled and cautiously monitored.

The essays of “H” began to resonate his dislike of the class with more ferociousness. He spoke about no compassion and no sense of responsibility. He created pictures of total chaos and anger. I reached out to the school councillor. She came in to the class room for a few observations. She spoke to the boy in confidentiality and reported bullying during break in the form of threats to hurt him and on certain occasions a push here and there.

Every morning during the home room period I spoke to my children about building character through adoption and practice of the different positive personality traits. That day, I decided to address this issue of bullying. When I questioned the students about the various incidents, I could clearly see the majority stand up for their community and deny any such occurrence. They spoke with insensitivity and a strong dislike for the boy. He on the other hand raised his hand impatiently to splurge his side of the story too. As I motioned him to speak, he said, “They have no respect for you or anyone. They push me and laugh. They don’t want to learn. They are never going to succeed in life. They are crazy and dangerous. That’s why, I don’t wish to stay here anymore. They will never learn. I really don’t know why you waste your time on them!”

The last sentence was a culturally sensitive one, spoken in sheer anger and disappointment. I calmed him down and explained to them as a class that we were a team and the survival of any team depended upon the commitment of each member to safeguard the rights of each other and feel safe and protected. On the front, the heads all nodded but I was still unsure of how to take the matter further.

The next few days were a little calm but then again, the childish wars began. Each time, I had no choice but to intervene and each time it was about standing by your community. The issue was beyond me and so I requested the school to handle it through their discipline policies.

Professionally I was somewhere and nowhere at the same time. I continued to work on their personal grooming addressing character traits the first 15 minutes of school every morning. I didn’t accept the swinging and talking during the National Anthem despite being labelled finicky and I didn’t give in to the pressure of becoming a little flexible with their nannies completing their homework. I crossed it with a zero and didn’t budge to change it otherwise.

My student grades escalated from Term 1 to Term 3 and the results I believed would be proof of my strong commitment to quality and progress for every child.

I was placed on a high pedestal as a teacher and there were strong indicators from management that I would be promoted towards planning and development to better structure the school curriculum. It made me happy as I felt that 12 years of teaching had given me enough insight to build on to plans that would help the children become independent learners and effective communicators of peace and tolerance.

Term 3 was eye opening. The class room stories of annoying him and her continued off and on and by now I could identify clearly the boy who created all this trouble. Sadly I knew there would never be a solution with the community rejecting anyone different.

I was called into the Admin office and informed that the pressure of the community was immense in regards to hiring a Pakistani teacher to teach an American Curriculum. There were parents sending in CV’s to replace me. They didn’t care about the academic growth of their child. They were not going to pay the high fee to have a Pakistani teach their child. I sat there trying to sink in the reality of the situation.

I was further informed that the ministry as well pressured the school in round about manners to hire native speakers to key positions and that pretty much summed up my entire year’s work for me. They felt I was an effective teacher and offered me the similar position for the next academic year.

I was deeply saddened by their stance on the discrimination. I had faced rejection on so many ends the entire year and I wondered if I had been a fool wasting my time on them as “H” had indicated.

 “They have no respect for you or anyone. They push me and laugh. They don’t want to learn. They are never going to succeed in life. They are crazy and dangerous. That’s why, I don’t wish to stay here anymore. They will never learn. I really don’t know why you waste your time on them!”

Somewhere I started to give up on this dream of believing in myself and my abilities to make a difference in anyone’s life. I felt it had all been a waste.

Engrossed in my thoughts I stood with my class in the assembly line watching these children laugh and jump around. Suddenly the bully of the class, a young local, pushed “H” hard and motioned him to move back so he could stand in front of the line. I reached out and warned him about using his hands or any physical contact. He showed his anger through glares all the way to the class. As soon as he entered the class he walked up to the chair of “H” and kicked hard.

I pulled him out in front of the class. It was the end for me. I asked him why he disliked the boy. He was timid in his responses and said, “There is no reason.” I faced the class. “Would you kick anyone without a reason?” There was a unanimous NO.

He quickly made up an excuse saying, “I was only playing with him.” Before I could respond to it there were a session of questions lined up by the children in my class for him to answer.

“Is pushing someone a game?”

“If you wanted him to play with you, couldn’t you ask politely?”

“You never play with him ever. What made you so kind today?”

“You always hit him and make fun of him.”

“Has he ever hurt you? He is kind, respectful and intelligent. You are jealous of him.”

It was a moment of accomplishment for me. The class had held a child from their own community accountable for his actions. They demanded answers from him and stood up with “H” who asked a simple question looking in the eyes of this local boy, “What did I do to make you so angry?”

The picture of this moment will stay with me a long time. I was a fool to give up on my dreams. And what was my dream? It was the entire episode that unveiled itself right through this testing year.

Change in attitudes is the most difficult battle to fight. But it remains the most important one in my life. For many, I may be a fool to return a teacher next year, but to me, I am my only hope!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An Inspiring Gift...

One of the best tokens of love I’ve received in my life came from a dear colleague and friend when I was leaving school to deliver my third child. It’s displayed in my living room on the wall cabinet and today I thought of sharing this immensely creative and thoughtful gesture that always reminds me of counting my blessings!

All the items were placed in a box labelled “The Parental Survival Kit”. Each item was tagged and the short phrases attached reflected upon some really important changes that would follow.

“The Job Profile”

Truly every mother will agree that it is a 24/7 job!

 Elastic Bands! 

I just love this one! Parents realize quite soon that rigidity won’t get them anywhere with their children. Flexibility in views, opinions and acceptance of changing times quite appropriately defines “Progressive Parents!”

A Pack of Erasers! 

This is a really important tool for me as I always find it really hard to disconnect with a sour incident and move on. With children, we can’t hold on to argumentative moods, nagging sessions and sour behaviours. It is imperative that we erase the bad memories and experiences and start the day with renewed hope and faith in each other. "Forgiving Parents!"

The Skittles Pack! 

A sweet reminder of diversity that comes together in a home with many children. All my sons are quite different in nature and personality. I therefore understand that my plans for their happy existence in the house would have to be just as diverse! "Accepting Parents!'

A Box of Cotton Balls!

 I think I use this tool the most! With such intense energies shuttling through the corridors of the house, I need a few moments to make sense of what is happening! "Reflecting Parents!"

A Velcro Wrist Band! 

This justifiably explains moments of utter chaos when nothing seems to be going your way! A time that we as parents dread! The frustration that we feel at witnessing our efforts going down the drain. At such times, it is but necessary to hold onto each other with a firm grip to be able to keep the focus and help our children come through with flying colours!

"Responsible Parents!"

A Pack of Nuts! 

What a super idea! Honestly, with children it is just not possible for us as parents to function day and night with the same level of sanity and reasoning power! There must be times when we are able to peel off the Parental cover and surprise our children with our ability to laugh at ourselves! "Humorous Parents!"

A Piece of Rope! 

We all need this one! No amount of experience in Parenting can promise you a smooth journey or a battle won. I have often found myself hanging onto the edge struggling for some help. This extra piece of rope can be your partner or a friend. Either ways, it’s safer and reassuring to have someone to help you in times of need and pull you out of your misery! "Ego-less Parents!"

A Strip of Band Aid! 

No matter how much space we allow our kids to move on in life, there are always expectations attached. These maybe visible or spring up suddenly at some odd hour. It’s not necessary that our children react at such times with the same enthusiasm that we expect them to. There are always moments of hurt that parents encounter and at such times, it’s much wiser to cover the wounds and move on! "Wise Parents!"

A Pack of Candles! 

Oh Yes! No parent can find his way to successful Parenting while opting to struggle in the dark. A good parent is a hopeful parent. One that brings up his/her child in optimistic and enlightened surroundings! "Dependable Parents!"

Two Panadols! 

I always laugh at this one! Surely when all else fails, we just need to take two and dose off! "Surviving Parents!"

Do Not Disturb Door Hanger! 

Oh dear! I still need to use that one! Mommies probably get to use this not too frequently but it should be a part of the kit because it reminds your children to also look at you as an individual who needs time and space to grow as well! "Independent Parents!"

A Jig-Saw Puzzle Piece! 

Truly innovative! Surely our children are independent individuals with plans for their lives. However, the picture remains incomplete till we all don’t fit into the master grid. As a mum, I am a significant contributor to my child’s life. If I detach myself from his life and existence, he will surely go astray! I am an important resource for him to explore and learn from. "Educated Parents!"

I leave this one completely to the viewer's imagination! God knows what she wanted to tell me here!!!!!

Ninoshka Fernandes gifted and prepared me for the most beautiful moments of my life. Now that’s what I call a ‘true friend!’ Thanks Nino and I love you always!

The best Influence on my child!

 

Be your own critic...

The classroom was mostly noisy. The teacher was always in a struggle mode to calm them down. The boy gang, though just 7 years of age, was the talk of the Primary School. The gang comprised of three boys. Each one committed to uphold the ‘principles’ and ‘cool image’ of the gang. The teacher was exhausted with the constant surprises and the high tone of the class. There were issues about ‘foul language’, ‘threats’ and ‘undermining the teacher’s authority’.

Here it’s important to point out that the teacher in question was a soft spoken and structured lady. She had all the will to deliver the lesson well, provided, the creativity in planning the lesson was imported. She was not a very expressive woman and that was failing the classroom discipline.

I was asked by the Principal to help out for a few days by sitting in the classroom and making observations. It started from the assembly. The line came through a corridor and entered the classroom running around the tables and chairs. The teacher came in and began to settle her bags and books. The boys were screaming and the girls sat quietly looking at them. The teacher looked at them and said, “ Alright, that’s enough. Sit down please.” They paid no attention and eventually fell to the ground while taking a sharp turn at a fast speed. There was laughter and anger. I noticed the teacher. She was even afraid to touch them. She asked them to sit down again. I stood up and walked to the front of the class. “Sit down NOW!” My voice was loud, angry and demanding. They immediately sat down. “Now, I am going to be sitting in your class to see how you all behave. I would like to write a good report by the end of the day. If the report is bad, your class will get in trouble. Do you all understand?”  “Yes, Ms. Shama.”

The lesson began. The board was used as the resource and while the teacher’s back was to the class, they all had their funny faces episode. By the time she completed the task of drawing the clues to the lesson, the children had already determined the answers and blurted them out, making her plans appear somewhat ridiculous.

Suddenly one of the children got up and went outside the class. The teacher said, “ Where are you going?” The child gave no answer, got his bag and took out some colours to bring to his table. He merrily came and sat on his chair. “Ok, now look at the words in the book,” she continued as if nothing had happened.

The children talked loudly while she distributed the note books to begin the written work. The children stood around her waiting for their names to be called out. And though she felt terrible about the chaos, she appeared helpless.

Work began and she took a round of the class to see if everyone had begun. Then she stood by her table, browsing through their homework books. Soon the first child ran to her table to get the work checked. She sat down and a crowd made a circle round her completely hiding her from the rest of the class. Some children sat with their pencils, struggling to find answers while others found the line to the teacher too long and decided to play for a while.

The bell rang and the gang rose to be the first to rub the board. The teacher was still there and the children were still doing their work. They jumped up and down eliminating all chances for the slow writers to complete their work. The next teacher in line stood outside the classroom dreading to enter this chaotic room.

I walked out of the classroom knowing, the teacher would need some help. I spoke to her later and instead of advising her with verbal instructions, told her that I would be the teacher for her class the following day. She would watch me from morning till home time and make all the observations. I wanted her to do that because when you become your own critic, there is a possibility for change. The students were informed about the special classes the next day and they left a little worried.

The assembly was about to begin. I stood facing the children. The gang stood together pushing classmates and having a laugh. I walked up to them and pulled them out of the line. They looked a little shocked. I spoke to them in a whisper, “Listen boys, the line is too long and I can’t watch everyone standing here. Do you think you could spread out a little and watch them for me. We don’t want any talking in the assembly you know.” They were super quick to nod. I signalled one to stand close to the front, one in the middle and one right at the end. The line was quiet. Someone sneezed and I heard a loud Ssshhhhhh! Surely, the assembly was taken care of.

As they moved out of the assembly, the line was managed by the gang keeping it straight and quiet. I signalled them to stop outside the classroom.

“Before we enter the classroom, I would like you to understand a few things. Firstly, no one will come out of the class to get something from the bag. So, if you need to carry something in, you will do it now. Secondly, once we enter the classroom, I expect each one of you to settle down quietly and get ready for the lesson. Am I clear?” “Yes teacher.” A few students walked to their bags to carry their pencil cases to class. The line entered the classroom and the routine was followed. I had already placed their relevant note books on to their tables. They had started to enjoy the change.

Before I turned around to write the day and date on the board, I asked them to read the first page of the lesson in the text book and underline all the interesting words. They got busy and I quickly completed the usual tasks. They had collected quite a bit of vocabulary. We went over the words, comprehending the meanings through games, sentence making and group competitions. It took us about ten minutes and I had gained their attention and liking.

The next step was to deliver the core lesson. To do that, I needed them to understand the objectives well. What are we going to learn through this lesson? The targets to achieve by the end of the lesson. I took a coloured marker and framed the objectives on the board. “But how are we going to come to these conclusions?” One of the gang members inquired. It was an intelligent question and I began to admire the child’s intellect. The other two members got excited as well and the level of noise increased a little. “I promise it will be fun if you listen to the instructions carefully. I will not repeat them, so this is your only chance.” They began to motion each other to be quiet and not utter a word. I noticed the three boys had quite a lot of authority in their manners. I wondered how their authority could be managed to the benefit of this teacher.

The instructions went smoothly and each group had a task to complete. They worked together but I noticed that the girls in the class were not at all aggressive in their approach to work. The realization came to me that the boys had created such loud and strong impressions of themselves that the girls had gone back into their shells. I made a slight change in the plan. “ I have a better plan! Why don’t we have a competition? Girls versus boys!” The boys shouted with joy but the girls didn’t react much. “Ofcourse, I am a girl too, so I will team up with the girls!” There was protest from the boys but the girls readily accepted the challenge. I saw that the spirit to do the best was on both sides. I walked around the class, giving suggestions and discovering their great talents. On observation, these boys were all high achievers who needed a challenge. They were logical thinkers and that was indicated from the way they approached their tasks.

While the students completed their work, I decided to speak to these boys individually. I started with the first boy. He sat happily on the chair across the table. I smiled at him and asked him if he had enjoyed the activity. “Oh yes! It was so much fun. We were the best!” I said, “You sure did well. You know ‘A’, I saw you yesterday and you were so different then. You were shouting, not listening to the teacher, fighting. I mean, why were you doing all that?” He wasn’t ready for the sudden questions. He sat quietly. “I’m sure you know that it’s completely childish to behave that way right?” He was finding it hard to let go of the oath. “ Teacher, they ask me to do it.” He said softly, feeling a little relieved. “But if you will not do it, they won’t be able to force you right?” “They will throw me out of the gang. We are the strongest.” I laughed at his revelation. “Really! You have a gang! I know what these gangs do. They sort of are like the Police of the class. They take care of all their classmates and clean up the classroom. They make reports on children using bad language and bullying. Stuff like that right?” I was cornering his conscience and he was just ready to give in. “ Infact, it would be so cool if the Year 2’s could have a Police Patrol! You could wear badges and hats! Every week these badges could be transferred so, everyone would get a chance!”

The excitement and news of the Police Patrol spread fast in the class. The notebooks were collected and placed in the allotted area. The gang was dissolved through logical conversation and energies were diverted towards positive programmes. 

I spoke to them about their mature behaviour and how proud they had made me. The books for the next class were on the tables and the children were ready to greet the next teacher. 

My presence remained in the classroom for three days and eventually I called for the teacher who briefed me about her observations…

·        Involve the students in the disciplinary plans.

·        Loud and clear instructions before the beginning of the activity.

·        Set clear expectations.

·        Engage them in more hands on activities. Use the board less.

·        Be systematic and organized in the classroom. Label shelves and place materials to be used before hand.

·        Do not occupy yourself with your own work while the students are in class.

·        Do not ignore the faulty system. Have a counter plan.

·        Discuss the lesson plan with them along with the objectives of the lesson.

     Wrap up the lesson in time to leave the class in order for the next teacher.

·        Balance the spirit of inquiry and learning for both boys and girls.

·        Work through logic and reasoning with the students.

·        Communicate with students individually off and on to maintain a closer relationship.

·        Channelize their energies through positive ideas.

·        Plan challenging tasks for the high achievers. Keep their thoughts occupied.

·        Create a programme to convert their weaknesses into their strengths.

     Sometimes it is good to be your own critic and make your own observations...

  

The four leaf clover

The four-leaf clover is an uncommon variation of the common, three-leaved clover. According to tradition, such leaves bring good luck to their finders, especially if found accidentally. According to legend, each leaf represents something: the first is for faith, the second is for hope, the third is for love, and the fourth is for luck.

In Primary grades, it is of utmost importance to identify student strengths and weaknesses and group them up accordingly. A lot of experimentation is required to fit in this jig-saw puzzle. However, sometimes, the not so perfect combination can also bring about amazing results. And that too accidentally.

The year had just begun and the children who had walked into my classroom were sitting in random groups. I had actually placed their name tags on each table and they placed themselves accordingly. My observation was a continuous process and here I hold distinct memory of a special group who came about accidentally.

None of the four group-mates was academically independent. They were average achievers and not very prominent in class. The first group activity that I gave to my class in the beginning of the First Term, was to learn about each other and create a group profile booklet. I introduced a few designs to them to choose from but gave them an open hand to decide on how they wanted to present or interpret their group.

Work began. I moved around quietly watching them all discussing how they wanted to do it. Some argued on ideas clashing and some sat quietly waiting to accept the final decision. I tried to keep my input as less as possible but intervened where I saw no progress. The perfectionists could not accept the abstract thoughts and the practical players found the idealists quite annoying. I learnt that these were young minds at work and their experiences were quite similar to what we as adults face working with each other everyday.

All these groups, had a lot of commotion. And then there was my special group, “Group A” where all four children had come to an agreement and were busy writing about themselves. I walked by their tables and stood for a while to see how they had managed to come about a decision.

Member A was writing… My name is “A”. I am from Sri-Lanka. My mum and dad work in an office. Everyday before we leave the house, we pray together. I know that if I will be good, others will be good to me. If I will help my group-mates, they will also help me out. If I will be in trouble, they can help me out. I will not do anything bad, because then nothing bad will happen to me.” ( Her writing reflected strong faith. She was a believer who was run by her conscience and knew how important it would be to be honest and induce positive energy in the group.)

Member B had this to say… My name is “B”. I am from the Philippines. I love my class very much and my teacher. My group-mates are all nice. We have to work together all year. I know that we will be a good team. My group-mates are like my family. We help each other and work together to make our group the best.” ( She was definitely a team player. She was an emotional factor who would bring warmth and sustenance to their group. )

Member C was deep in thought… My name is “C”. I am from the U.A.E. My father works in a company. I have a pretty mother. My sisters take care of my baby brother. I have a big Villa. All my family goes to the park every Friday. My new class is very big. It has nice boards. My friends in my group are very clever. They all like me. I am thankful to Allah for this class.” ( I smiled to myself. Here we had a lucky charm that saw everything as beautiful and counted his  blessings well. His appreciation of what his group would offer him through the coming year, would inspire them to move forward at all times. )

Member D had almost completed his comments… My name is “D”. I am from Pakistan. I am a very good boy. My class is good. I like my new friends. My father works in a bank. He says he works hard to make everyone happy. My house is in Karachi in Pakistan. I will become a policeman when I grow up. I will protect my country from bombs and have peace. Then we will be happy to go home to meet grandma.” ( It was delightful to see a dreamer in the group. He had an element of hope in his persona and would prove to be a strong anchor in difficult times. )

And so to me, this group was an amazing discovery of human strengths. A realization of many cultures coming together. Each one offering its own strong influences. There was faith, love, luck and hope all coming together as in a four leaf clover. I dared not change their group arrangement as I had been lucky to find such visionaries by accident.  

Making Exceptions...

The science project was on ‘rocks’ and the due date was given. I was expecting all submissions on time. The models started to make their grand entrances a few days in advance. Some made from clay, some with foam and others using chart papers. All the while, children would gasp and clap for creative and enterprising ideas. One splendour followed by another.


Most of the models and art & craft appeared to have an adult’s hand in it. I appreciated that because it was an opportunity for parents to spend some quality time creating something with their children. It was a time to bond and share experiences. A chance to learn lasting lessons.


I would usually mark them for creativity and the ability to talk about the project with knowledge. One by one they would stand in-front of the class and speak for about three to five minutes describing the structure.


Some would fare very well for their information on materials used, on clarity of concept and good presentation skills. And then there were always those who had slept through the creative process. The entire project would be alien to them. They would only get a mark for submitting the project and no more than that.


The last girl waiting in line, was completely anxious. Academically she was an average intellect child, but very persistent and regular in work. I noticed her because she had not yet submitted her project and even now stood with her arms folded. I went through all presentations amazed by the variety of ideas parents and children had used to design their projects.


And so finally, the little girl came face to face with the class. It was absolutely quiet. She placed her hand inside the jacket pocket and pulled out three to four papers that had been torn carelessly from the notebook, taped together and scribbled on. The language had grammatical errors and the pictures of rocks had been drawn free hand. She felt a little awkward as her classmates exclaimed, “that’s it!” She kept on turning the sheets up and down to hide her embarrassment and spoke about the project in broken lines. She had good verbal skills but the comparison of her four torn page project to the grandeur of structures around her had taken away her confidence.


I felt her little feet going cold and got up to stand with her to look at the project a little more closely. It was done by her for sure. The handwriting was messy but the information was appropriate. The pictures were relevant and it was clear that she wasn’t a talented artist. I asked her, “Sweety, did anyone help you with your project?” She looked down shaking her head in a negative response. “So, can you tell me, how did you do your project?” I asked her so she would know I had accepted it as a project. She looked up and her innocent eyes melted my heart completely. She spoke with a little more confidence, still not looking at the papers, “I had planned to do my project with brown clay because my mum said she would buy it for me. She was busy and my dad also had work so I couldn’t do it like that. When I got home yesterday, my parents were not at home. My maid said she did not know how to do it, so I tore these papers from an old note book teacher. I collected the information from the science book and wrote on the papers. I found scotch tape and stuck them all together.”


When a child speaks the truth, you can sense it from the glimmer of tears in the eyes. I pulled her closer to myself and gave her a tight hug. “For your motivation, self- confidence and effort, I am going to give you ‘full marks’ my dear!”


A huge protest came from the students who had relatively good projects but had been unable to speak about them due to the sleep mode that they had encountered. I had cut their marks and their objection now was that her project did not look beautiful at all and anybody could tear papers and stick them together.


The children rightfully needed an explanation and so, I said, “The reason why I’ve given her full marks is not because her project looks pretty or ugly, not even because the information she has shared is limited or beyond the text book. I’ve awarded her these marks for the worry that drove her to create something instead of nothing. They are for her maturity of mind that did not accept the excuse of her parents being unavailable. Today I am applauding her conscience which did not lead her to sit and watch T.V instead. It is to salute her well sought out priorities at such a tender age. They are to encourage her to always rely on her own abilities to cope with work. And sure, she could have presented the same project with better handwriting, coloured the bare pictures and cut the edges of the paper smartly, but all that is learnt with practice. I’m sure she’ll get comfortable with all that in time.”


She was an emotional child and held onto me as a mother figure happy to be a part of my life. She was an ‘exceptional child’ and therefore it was inevitable, I would make that exception.