Life's Little Victories

Story by Mary Eu
Teacher
Malaysia


What keeps a teacher going? Well, it's really simple as pleasant memories of a job well done.

It was our school's Open Day. Prents had been invited to collect their children;s report books and to discuss their performance in the half-yearly examination. The year was 2000 and I was the teacher of a Form 5 class.

As the form teacher, I knew the students well. There were only five Chinese students and the rest of the class were Malays. Azlan was the assistant monitor of the class. He was tall and his uniform was always neat. He also spoke little English.

Azlan was often called to read in class because he had a loud voice but I had to interrupt him several times to correct his pronounciation. He did not mind. Still, he failed in his first English test that year.

When I gave out the test papers in class, he exclaimed to his friend," Ah, sikit lagi aku lulus". (A little more and I would have passed.) Only a few students in the class passed the first monthly test. When questions were asked in class, Azlan always shot up his hand to answer. The rest of the class were rather passive.

When his answer was correct, I praised him. When it was almost correct, I corrected it and told him that it was a good try. When he gave a wrong answer, I also told him that it was a good try and wrote the correct answer on the blackboard. i was pleased that Azlan showed interest in my lessons.

He passed the second monthly test by the skin of his teeth. He was all smiles. I was glad. I told him that if he could write a longer essay by giving examples and more elaboration, he could have scored a better grade.

Azlan tried to speak English with me. His friends sniggered and tittered. He ignored their smirks. He attempted almost all of the questions in his half-yearly examination and wrote longer essays. His marks were close to a credit now.

When I returned their half-yearly examination answer scripts, I called their names one by one. I had a short comment for each student. When it was Azlan's turn, he was all ears. "Azlan, you have improved a lot. In fact, you got the highest marks in English in class." He grinned, unable to contain his happiness. His friends wanted to see his answers.

On Open Day, I set up stall at 8.00am in our make-shift hall together with other form teachers of various classes. Parents started streaming in and many had to wait for their turn to talk to the teacher. They sat in a row near the teacher's desk. I noticed a petite Malay lady with sad eyes. She was waiting for her turn.

Finally, she had her chance to sit before me. She introduced herself as Azlan's mother. "How's Lan at school?" she asked softly, in Bahasa Malaysia, not meeting my eyes.

"Oh, Azlan puts in a lot of effort and has improved significantly in his English and other subjects too. he is very helpful," I told her honestly. Suddenly, she clasped my hand and hugged me. I was taken aback y her show of emotion. Tears brimmed her eyes.

"Thank you for your encouragement. Azlan was so happy because you praised him the other day. You're the first teacher who says positive things about my son. Thank you!" Moved by her sincere words, I hugged her back and for one bried moment, two mothers shared the joy of a child's small achievement as only mothers could understand.

After she had left, I found renewed energy to carry on the day's duties with gusto. A student's achievement, no matter how small, is indeed chicken soup to a teacher's soul.

Azlan sat for his SPM and passed. He even managed to get a credit for English. I do not know where Azlan is now but the memories have lingered - memories of days lived right. Sometimes, this is what keeps teachers going.