I couldn’t really decide whether to blog about teachers or patriotism. Funny combo you say? Well not really. Maybe I’ll get around to explaining fully, but for now ruminations on teachers.
Some of you may know I’ve taken it upon myself to learn francais. I never had an interest in languages as a child/teen, and in any case french wasn’t one of the languages offered, but as I grew I realised the importance of being multilingual and found myself being able to absorb spanish fairly easily (3 years of DirectTV with Spanish subtitles will do that to you 🙂 So, for a variety of reasons, I’ve decided to learn French. To this end I contacted a personal tutor yesterday and the immediate experience on the phone was one of aggressive questioning and brusqueness. Maybe she was having a bad day.Maybe that’s her way of treating students. Either ways it was glaringly obvious post-call that she was NOT the teacher for me (attitudinal you + stubborn me = disaster). I was befuddled by her attitude as well, since she makes her living from being a teacher…don’t you have to have a certain temperament to be one of those? I’ve always fantasized about teaching first year medical students (because they’re so malleable at that age *evil laugh*), but knew deep down I really am not cut out to be a full time teacher. I can hack it for a few I’m sure, but I lack the patience and essentially gentle nature it takes to be a good teacher. But mostly the patience. XD. I’m proud of friends, and my best friend in particular, who have decided to make a career out of teaching. A really good teacher is worth their weight in gold.
We’ve all been shaped by our teachers. From the mostly forgotten ones in Kindergarten (sad, because they likely contributed so much!), to the deeply impressed ones in primary school, all the way up to whatever tertiary education you may have enjoyed/suffered. I vividly remember 2 teachers from primary school (the school you attend from roughly ages 5 to 11/12). One was an Amerindian (Indigenous person) from a real Amerindian village (!) who fired my imagination and obsession with all things rain forest and Amerindian related. I sadly have no idea what became of her after she left us. The other was my teacher the last year of school and I admired her self possession and competence. Years later I heard her say something about me which soured my perception of her and broke a childhood pedestal.
High school was filled with a host of memorable teachers. It would be shorter to list the teachers who didn’t make an impression. XD There was an entire cast of personalities: the ‘eccentric’ science guy; the easy-going playboy math guy (there were 2 of those!); the judgmental, borderline abusive home-economics lady; the diligent, highly zealous VSOs (volunteer teachers from the UK); the out-of-the-box literature teacher; the MacGyver-like physics guy, etc etc. Back then teachers seemed so wise and almost demi-god-like. You would think that I’d be able to appreciate they were only human, especially as both my parents were teachers up until my early teens, but I guess the power they held led to cognitive dissonance.
In medical school I had the pleasure of knowing some of the most interesting and dedicated teachers. After the pre-clinical years, these were almost all doctors who had busy jobs and lives but made the time to impart knowledge onto supremely green and starry-eyed medical students. They were the soldiers who stayed in the trenches of fairly poorly paying jobs, and chose to teach people who were highly likely to leave the country and practice abroad. Why did they do it? Altruism, power, obligation, money – it doesn’t matter, I’m extremely grateful they did. I only encountered two persons during the course of my medical training who I would deem unsuitable/unfit teachers. Every one of the others deserves a special thank you and recognition for their work, but allow me to wax nostalgic about two in particular. The first influenced my choice of specialty (yes I know, I haven’t specialized – yet! but when I do it will be in pathology). He’s almost larger than life – a heavy smoking, gruff, ruggedly handsome, no-nonsense, purveyor of various vices with an incredibly tragi-romantic background. The first few classes we had with him I would literally feel nauseated with nerves, sitting outside the morgue door reading and re-reading the pathology book, alternately hoping he ignored and noticed me. Eventually the nerves settled down, but I never got the chance to relate to him as a colleague, or to tell him how inspirational he’s been. Hopefully one day.
The other teacher is an internist of almost mythic proportions. A giant of a man (literally and figuratively – he’s quite tall!) in the annals of my medical school. He’s been the inspiration, motivation and mentor for many a graduate now scattered across the world. Everyone’s passed through his hands, and whilst not universally loved, he’s definitely universally remembered. A cross between Dr. House and a hermit with a bit of diva thrown in, we would wait for his rounds with excitement and trepidation. Earning praise from him was like winning an award and his snarky comments are the stuff of legends. Recently he had a huge personal tragedy and I was tangentially reminded of the limited time he had left to teach. When this hopefully far day comes, future generations of students and patients would be so much poorer.
Most of my learning now is very self-directed. The limited interaction with the University of London distance tutors doesn’t really mirror student-teacher interactions of the past. But, underpaid, under appreciated and increasingly undermined, the noble profession marches on. Vive la professeurs!!
Saw the last of the twilight movies 2 days ago.Not the proudest moment of my life but hey, t’was something to do…Afterwards it got me thinking that for all ‘we’ might scoff at the depiction of their ‘forever love’, it’s a very powerful message. Especially to a 14 year old girl. When I was 14 I discovered the vampire Lestat. This was the first time I’d been exposed to this sort of creature – ruthless, good-looking, sexually ambiguous, exciting. I wasn’t the only one enthralled – Anne Rice made a fortune out of those books. But to be truthful, if Stephanie Meyers had written twilight when I was 14, I probably would’ve fallen for that storyline too. *end of shameface*
A Blog About 3 things.... 