One Good Teacher Is Worth A Thousand Priests!

I had two. Both my parents were in the teaching field, but I assure you I really didn’t see the silver lining in that until much later. To me the reality was my mom taught in the school where I studied and my Dad was the principal of the college where I studied. Which meant, nothing I did ever eluded their notice. And the consequences were manifold. In addition to getting reamed in school, I would get the inevitable - “What will people say…….a teacher’s kid behaving like that…disgrace….blah blah blah” - lecture at home afterwards.

So you can understand why I cared very less for that. But looking back I see the many advantages that I got from that particular arrangement. I had two well read guardians who were familiar with school syllabus and the art of teaching. So, despite the generation gap, they understood many facets of my life. Study-wise, it was easy for me to just ask a question when I was in doubt. I was also encouraged to find my own answer by going through the books available at home or at the college library.

My teachers also encouraged me to question, to think out of the box- but ruled with an iron clad discipline. We, siblings, rarely dared question or disobey their dictates. In return, we were allowed our wild play times, our odd hobbies and interests. My mom, the sweetest woman I know, was scary when she was in her teacher persona. She was passionate about teaching and would tolerate no nonsense among her students. But she would take time out to nourish the weaker students, push the better ones and put the egoistical ones in place.

For me, having had the opportunity to study under her was a blessing. It allowed me to see a side of her that we never saw at home. The mild mannered and rather quiet women came alive on the dais in front of the black board. There she was in her element.

The other teacher was a much feared one, my dad. Dad taught sometimes by examples, sometimes by being critical of what we did. Of course the method did not sit well with me either as a small brat or as a teenager. However, I was too well trained to talk back to my father – credit goes to mother here.

As such, looking at the current generation who makes a lifestyle out of being rude to your face and thinks nothing about throwing tantrums, I am incredibly thankful to my strict parents. They never indulged us. We were not encouraged to demand, rather work towards earning whatever toy or favor we wanted. That also was subject to cost, and what my parents thought was within a reasonable cost.

As a result, I find my self today setting my own limits in expenditure and needs, which makes it easier to manage the finances. The strict rules on when to speak and to whom has today translated into a good skill in handling seniors in office. Also, we were taught to be gracious hosts, with “guests to be comfortable at any cost” being drilled into our head since the wee years. Today, I find myself being complemented as being a very good host and again this has helped in my professional life so much.

Not all of these teachings were a conscious effort on my parent’s parts, I found out later. Most of what we learnt was by simply following the standards my two teachers set for themselves and us. They both have very high regards for this profession, as one would say, did not tolerate anything below par from us. Where as I am not sure if we met their standards always, but I find myself a better person for having two teachers for parents – better then two thousand priests aye?