A Teacher Died Today By Alan Haskvitz

Normal
0

false
false
false

EN-US
X-NONE
X-NONE

/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:”Table Normal”;
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:””;
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin-top:0in;
mso-para-margin-right:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt;
mso-para-margin-left:0in;
line-height:115%;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:”Calibri”,”sans-serif”;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:”Times New Roman”;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;}

A Teacher Died Today
By Alan Haskvitz

It was a slow death. Indeed it took years to wake him up to the fact that he was dead. He didn’t realize it until the start of yet another school year that held promise and challenges as they always did.
The custodians had done a fine job of cleaning the room over the summer and after a few hours he was able to reassemble his equipment from boxes he had hidden away. He was lucky, no doubt. He didn’t have to move classrooms and he had his class list. He always laughed at the thought of Bill Gates, as a teacher, having to struggle to find storage boxes to move rooms every few years. He couldn’t imagine how anyone would listen to these types of educational saviors who hadn’t actually faced the daily challenge of teaching. At one time he had made a list of the leading education advocates and found that only a couple had actually taught in a classroom. The rest were reacting to research done by other non-teachers on the whole, or by the fact that they were rich and thus must know what is best. He remembered the quote, “What’s good for the country is good for General Motors, and what’s good for General Motors is good for the country, ” and jokingly told his colleagues he was waiting for a government bail-out.
He pushed his chair into place and gazed at the empty seats with anticipation. He wanted to sue the writers of Pawn Stars for stealing his saying, “After all these years you never know what is going to be coming through the door.”
Being a veteran teacher he knew his best chance, sadly, was to go with the flow. Years of experience had taught him that administrators and students come and go, but the real key to survival was to let them. All too frequently they had perceived him as a speed bump on their way to the future,  not believing that his methods would be of value, despite the myriad of honors he had received, lauding his talents as a teacher.

To alleviate the discouragement of these negative moments, he kept a file of letters from previous students and parents thanking him for his dedication, insights, and caring nature. Some were from students of 30 years ago; none of them ever said that they were sorry for having to work hard and play by the rules.
Being an early riser, he was always one of the first to school. He enjoyed talking with the custodians and preparing his lessons. Not that the latter needed much work. They had been fine tuned, perfected, modified, integrated, and aligned with the ever changing demands of those hell bent on making every subject a miniature university style course.
He eagerly adapted new technologies and had acquired a nice collection of older computers from parents wanting the tax deduction and the satisfaction of helping the school. All was well until the school district changed its Internet service and none of the computers could be used. The fact that the school’s Internet connection was frequently down or agonizingly slow didn’t seem to matter enough to result in a remedy. Sadly, technology had added about an hour a day to his work load as all scores had to be recorded using the Internet as well as posting assignments. And there were the many emails from students asking about the homework even though it was posted and reviewed in class. Emails from parents added to that burden and fell into three categories. First, why did my child get this grade? Secondly, what is the assignment? Thirdly, my child said…

He figured that technology in total had roughly increased his teaching load an extra month every school year. However, he didn’t want the students to be deprived of the advances technology offered in terms of learning so he had taken numerous summer and evening classes to keep current, paying for them himself even though they could never be used to move him up the salary scale. He already had several university degrees and an abundance of staff development classes that placed him at the top of the salary scale, a scale that had not increased in eight years, although the cost of living certainly had gone up, and his retirement plan was stagnant.
He didn’t care. He loved teaching and his family understood this and were somewhat willingly financially sacrificed. Luckily, he found a part-time summer job that helped pay for his children’s college education.
The principal stopped by and asked him how his summer was. He was glad for the visit and they exchanged some pleasantries before he was left alone to check his class list. Since he was working in California he was not shocked to [continued on next page]
        see 175 students on the rolls. It wasn’t a record, he had over 200 on occasion, and he sometimes wondered what it would be like to teach in a school were the average class size was in the 20s and not in the high 30s. He noticed that he wasn’t getting too many special education students and only a handful of non- and limited English speakers in his classes so he won’t have to create as many individualized lesson plans.

None of these impediments bothered him. He was a veteran teacher. Every time he heard people say that a new teacher could teach as well as an experienced teacher, he cringed. He thought about all the insights, techniques, and lessons he had developed. And, he also remembered that when he was new to the profession he thought the same thing: “Why are they being paid more? I am just as good as they are.” He now knew that every year he taught he learned new things that could be applied to helping his students. He was a much better teacher now, more flexible and more real world knowledgeable.
He also believed that some teachers had gone stale. They were tired and unmotivated. They were victims of a system where the voices of the teacher are seldom heard outside the classroom door. They wanted to offer their students the world, but it wasn’t in the standards. A lot of creativity was stifled.
Teaching is the only profession that, if you do less nearly everyone is happy. Less homework, less tests, less work in general, applied over a heaping helping of easy grades made for happiness. Of course, with the standardized testing now in place that theory was challenged…but not really. All the burned out teacher had to do was teach to the test. In fact, it made teaching much easier. The Common Core caused them some concern, but when they realized there was an abundance of canned curriculum and a myriad of how-to videos, they realized that they could last until retirement. He smiled, remembering that he always called such trends “New Math.” He named it after a curriculum bust that was mandated a few decades previously. Besides, these types of top down mandated changes always made the staff room conversations more interesting.
He would miss the staff room. The other teachers always shared their current events and it made the faculty a type of family. Silly awards, cards for the sick, baby showers, and marriage announcements brought the teachers–usually isolated in their rooms–together. He would miss the camaraderie and, he hated to admit it, the kids. They had made him practically immune to diseases as they brought a huge variety of ailments into the classroom almost daily. They also said and wrote such funny things he could hardly wait to share them. He deeply believed that kids kept him younger. He found it easy to understand the newest popular terms and trends, and they found his humor so out of touch with theirs that it was actually “cool.”

What he wouldn’t miss: Mommy Bears…those parents who weren’t interested in what happened in the classroom, but what their child said happened. He was always dismayed that the worst of these Mommy Bears were teachers. He had one parent tell him that he was trying to influence the students by addressing conservative views on Social Security. This with students who don’t know who the mayor is and who struggle each day to do basic math.
But soon all of that would be over.
He put a calendar his desk and counted the days until the end of the school year: 184. It was somewhat reassuring for him to know the date when he would die. It gave him strength, but also troubled him. What would he come back reincarnated as? Certainly not a substitute teacher, and working for a private school was out. Fast food, telemarketing, salesman, also went into the “No thanks” pile. He decided he would go the head hunter route and to make an appointment. He had plenty of skills and was certainly good at meetings. Lord knows he had an abundance of them teaching.
The bell rang and the students entered noisily. As usual they were full of life, energy, and with a future bright with promise They sat down as he stood-up in front of the board and pointed to his name and class and asked them to check their schedule to see if they were in the right place. He handed each of them a card so that he could get their personal background, a technique he had found of value in getting to know the students. As they filled out the information he looked at them with new clarity. These weren’t just students, they would be the last students he ever taught. The last and the best, he promised himself.
A girl raised her hand and the melancholy was broken. “Sir, do I have to write down the names of the parent I live with or both my parents?” He paused. “Just the one you live with.” As he reminded himself to update the cards he remembered there would be no need. This was the last time he would need the information. The last time he would ask students about their hobbies and favorites.
The end of the year came quickly. He picked-up the pencils, books and paper from the floor. He took a final look around the room and felt a deep sadness, almost remorse. He could have taught longer, but it really wasn’t teaching anymore. It had become an effort to force the same prescribed medicine down the throat of every child regardless of their condition and that wasn’t teaching to him. It was the cause of his death.
At 11:00 am on an overcast Friday, he turned his keys into the secretary and walked out of teaching forever. No one said good-bye, but it didn’t matter. He had his students’ letters.
Alan Haskvitz
If you need more resources, just click
http://www.reacheverychild.com

No play no learning. Know play know learning.

 

Lesson learnt from a 3 year old…!

Yesterday in our welcome class, we were talking about leaves. Suddenly, Jai nonchalantly said “sab paed kaat diye…” (all the trees were cut) showing 2 fingers…”bus 1 bachaa hai…” (only 1 is left – this time, he showed only 1 finger) I knew pat what he was talking about. ALL the 30 odd year old trees trees on the beautiful and shady “C” Road had been cut down on the 19th.
I asked him who had done it and he said “chor aaye aur kaat diye…” (thieves came and chopped them)
“paed kaatna achi baat nai hoti….bus 1 bachaa hai….main chacha ke saath drive pe gaya tha tab dekha….” (it is not nice to chop trees….. only 1 is left …. I saw it when I went with my uncle for a drive…”)
Always out like the proverbial hawk for that one teachable moment, I asked him why trees were so important.
“tree hawaa nhekte hain….” (trees give us wind – this time using a Rajasthani word)
He spied the twinkle in my eye and immediately said – “nai – hawaa dete hain….”
What a moment for a teacher! I could see he was really concerned and
The answer was a proof that all my lessons on trees and why they are important, had been really really internalized. What hurt was his hurt…. he was honestly concerned why the “thieves” had cut the beautiful trees!
Then of course all the 11 children – yes, that is the strength of my class, with “strength” to be comprehended as a metaphor and not number – pitched in about the benefits of trees –
“uspe monkey rehtaa hai…chidiya ka ghonslaa hota hai…..banana lagte hain….(probably because we harvest many bunches of bananas with our children)…..chaanv dete hain….patte dete hain….”(monkeys stay on them….birds have their nests…we get bananas from them….they give us shade ….leaves….)
and then….. wonder of wonders, Jai said “ab ye chidiya kahaan rahegi?” the haunting line from Mahadevi Verma’s poem that I had been reading to them! Sheer ecstasy! It was like a Lesson Plan BY the children unfolding oh so naturally and effortlessly!

God bless you my angels, you seem to know the simple things of life more than those who chopped down those trees did. Widening roads? Do we really need an F-1 Race Track ?? For more hooliganism from the teenagers already doing “The Knight Rider” stunts on that road at midnight?
Okay, back to class, and we went through our routines and reached the playground for the outdoor playtime.
A bunch of bananas had to be harvested. The plant too had to be cut off.
I heard a voice say –
“aapne paed kaat diyaa? ab hawaa kaise aayegi?” I was flummoxed!! Yes it was Jai again. I knew immediately that I would have to improve my lesson plan on trees and talk about plant, shrubs, trees and some more!
I always knew that teaching preschoolers needs an “evolving” kind of syllabus. Needless to say I was – still am – scoffed at. Evolving syllabus? Are you nuts?
Maybe I am. As long as THIS is the outcome of my free flowing syllabus and hands-on teaching, who cares?

Remember one thing. This happened on “Guru Poornima”……

I have never had a doubt that my children are angels.
I am their student.
Thank you God!

p.s: I saw a picture in the newspaper today of a “My Earth My Duty” Competition. I think there was a mention of saplings being distributed to “save” the environment?
ROTFLOL…..!

Dedications…..

Dedicated to SAJJAN,

Actor,

Artist,

Craftsman,

Poet,

Friend,

Guide,

“Mouldy” –

Father.

Thank you Papaji, I am because you were. Without your “anukampa” I would have been nothing, zero, zilch, nada, kuch bhi nahi…..

NEELU:

Homemaker

Guru

Teacher

Cook par excellence

Voracious reader

Mother.

Everything I learned in my Home Science College, you had already taught me! Thank you for introducing me to Shakespeare, Dostoevsky, Sharat Chandra, Rabindranath Tagore and the plethora of classic literature.

“Jijaji” Shri Ramesh Thanvi for introducing me to Pre-school and E.C.E authors I had not read, ideas and thoughts about Early Childhood Education and making me realize that the little knowledge college gave me was but the tip of the ice-berg. I would also like to thank him for the unending reading list he gave me – still reading! I would also like to thank him profusely for writing simple poems for children…..brave brave thing to do! My children love his poems. Thank you.

The Dalai La’ma

Osho

Ghanshyam Vyas, friend philosopher guide, husband.

Nikhil Vyas, my talented son and guide.

Kamayani Vyas, talented daughter-in-law and guide.

Anupam Kher

Dr. Bhuta. H.O.D Child Development Department of S.N.D.T College. God made her then broke the mould.

Mrs. Bharati Goswamy. Professor, Child Development and Nursery School Education. S.N.D.T College Of Home Science, Bombay

Ms Bepsy Gandhi

Gijubhai Badheka

Maria Montessori

Margaret Mead

John Holt

Arvind Gupta

Hurlock

Tarla Dalal

Aruna Mody

Professor Ashok Bohra

Sabyasachi Ganguly “Saby”

Dr. Amita Bhargava

Dr. Nareandra Bhargawa

Little Miss Arushi Bhargava

Little Miss Arushi Madhavi

Little Master Ytharth Surana

Dr. Ranjana Desai

Dr. Sanjay Gehlot

Late Dr. Mahaveer Chandji

Anne Ma’am St. Annes

Bhuvana Subramanian

“Yes Man” Subramanian

Vimla Jashnani

Sheetal

Atul

Prem Singh Bhati aka “Bhati saab”

Arushi Madhavi

Lakshmi

Abboo

Chiku Bhati

Monty

Atul

Nitin Gupta “Bunty”

Pragya Boob

Micky, Parul, Jalmeen, Ushaji and Rekhaji – my “kitties” who are in touch with me even today, when their children, my ex-students, are in Colleges and jobs!

Skillofun

E.C.E UK

ACEI U.S.A

Kamleshji grandson of (late) Collector Shri J.N Purohit

Professor Ashok Bohra

Professor Varun Arya

Gaurav Jain

Pallavi Jain

Pinky Joshi – the BEST and most hard-working teacher I have ever known.

Meenakshi Bohra

Kaminiji

My “kitties”- Micky, Rekhaji, Jalmeen and Ushaji – thank you for your continuous faith and friendship…. You are all my life-lines!

AND

Manju Baiji my “Chota Bheem”

Thank you to every parent who sent their children here. From “Tinkle’s” parents, Advocate R.K Thanvi and Mrs. Thanvi – 1989, to the parents of Akshita Soni, my latest admission, and E V E R Y parent between them!

The two late gentleman and lady, who asked me to “shut up! and get out…!” from a College and a Pre-school respectively. I was told to do that in the second week of June 1989.

Toyland was born on 14th July 1989.

Post natal thanks to all the detractors who insisted I was doing the “wrong” things and applied the 3 “Cs” for their own survival – Convinced, Confused and Corrupted the thinking of the parents who sent their children here.

But……..

They could not break me – only made stronger. Thank you!

 

 

 

 

 

A beginning.

“Gurur Brahma,
Gurur Vishnu,
Gurur Devo Maheshwara,
Gurur sakshaat ParaBrahma,
Tasmai Shree Guruve Namaha:……
“Will our children EVER understand this? I guess not.Wo to poori ki poori jamaat gayi…
now 2 and 3 year olds are being slapped for vomiting on their first day at school….being told “rone waale bachhon ko chunni se baandh diya jayega”….made to sit in the sweltering heat – in the Sun!!! – if their fee is delayed……(and this is only the tip of the iceberg)
Are they “gurus”????
Please be good “gurus” even if it is only to your child/children – remember you can make a difference and be the torchbearers of our rich “guru-shishya parampara”……..!
My homage, o·bei·sance, to my parents -my first “gurus” – and all my teachers and every single child of TOYLAND – yes! they too are my “gurus” and have taught me innumerable lessons – including one today, on the auspicious day of “Guru Poornima” ! 
Guess I was just lucky!
 
 
 
The greatest poem ever known,
Is the one all poets have outgrown,
The poetry innate untold,
Of being only four years old.