It’s hard to believe sometimes that I’ve been a homeroom teacher at Pao School for six years already. Over these past 2000 days, my students and I have shared the same classroom, the same thinking space, the same beautiful memories.
I still recall first year at the school. It was my turn for training, and I had noticed there was a boy named E, who didn’t want to leave his kindergarten and purposely made things difficult for his parents. He refused to take part in group activities or speak with anyone. He even went as far as to punch his teacher. This unruly student quickly earned himself the name ‘bad kid.’ After his parents left the school, E bolted from the classroom to the campus gates, as though intending to slip away from the premises. He was eventually discovered by a teacher and brought back to the classroom. He glared at his classmates as he sat in his seat. When his classmates invited him to play, he refused: 'I don't want any part in your games.’
In the days following, E's parents would drop him off at school and leave as soon as they could, while a teacher would carry him to his classroom, leaving behind a trail of screams in protest that could be heard across the campus. I would come up with a plethora of incentives in hopes of getting him excited about learning, but nothing seemed to work.
As I lay in bed, I thought of E. As I casually began flipping through the pages of a magazine, I came across a story: A girl had crouched beside some flowers along the roadside, mumbling to herself. When passers-by would ask her what she was doing, she’d reply: ' I'm talking to the flowers. You need to crouch when you speak to them. Otherwise, they can't hear you.’ It suddenly dawned on me – Was it because I was his 'teacher' and E was my 'student' that he wasn't 'hearing' me, and I wasn't 'hearing' him? How do I find his inner voice?
Over the next while, I would meet E at the main gates every morning and we’d chat during lunch breaks. Knowing he loved insects, I bought some specimens for him. From our conversations, I learned that he was, in fact, a very innocent child despite his quick temper. I eventually brought him to the topic of his behaviour during his first days at the school, and that he must take time to adapt to a new learning environment. I gradually came to understand that his reservations were partly due to his experience of being bullied during kindergarten. In an effort to protect himself from being teased and ridiculed, he refused to play with his classmates. Hearing him express his true self so freely, it warmed my heart. I smiled and told him I was proud of him for sharing his thoughts with me, and that all he needed was to put some more effort in his studies. Most of all, I made sure he knew I would always be there to help him.’
From that day on, E began to take an active role in his learning, asking questions in class. He became more relaxed, more motivated, and although still mischievous, it’s that simple yet honest smile that tells me he’s grown more comfortable with his new home.
Cici Sun, Chinese/EU Teacher
