The Greatest Showmen
I grew up in Lucknow, India. Once, in 5th grade, when I was at the movies, I spotted my English teacher, Ma’am Bunny, at the box office. I froze, then stuttered my way to a “Good afternoon, Ma’am.”
I ran to my mom, screaming “Ma, ma … Ma’am Bunny watches movies!!” It was a revelatory moment: my teachers had a life outside school.
Of course they did! What was I thinking, if my teachers weren’t in school, they were wearing a cape and fighting crime somewhere?
Or did I think they were like chessmen? The school took them out of a box when a game had to be played, and put them back in the box at the end of the day.
Looking back, as stupid as I seem as a child, I don’t think I can blame myself too much. If I lived in an illusion, then it was because my teachers had created the illusion for me.
Teachers are the greatest showmen. Think about it. No matter what happens the night before: a fight with the spouse, a teenage daughter getting a Bieber tattoo, a sick parent, a painful breakup, an overdraft bank account, you teachers have to do your job like nothing happened. And not any job, a job that requires you to manage rascals like my younger self.
As a teacher, you are playing a character on stage everyday to a crowd full of hecklers. Not one line can be forgotten; not one expression can be off.
And you are all very, very good. I don’t remember a single time from my childhood when a teacher was ‘out of character’. It’s a superhuman feat.
You are in character not only in class, but any time in public. At ISTE conference this year, a principal of a school in a small Kansas town told me how he goes to a different town to buy his beer because everyone in the town knows who he is and he doesn’t want to be seen buying alcohol.
Another teacher told me how she has to keep her wrists covered, no matter the weather, so she can keep a tattoo she got during her phase as a rebellious teenager hidden from her students and their parents.
I think this aspect of teacher: being in character pretty much every time you are out of your house, day in day out, year after year, is one of the most under-appreciated aspects of your job.
I don’t know how you all do it. The best I can do is to thank you. Thank you so much for providing us the cocoon of your normalcy where we can be little rascals ourselves.
Love, laughter
Nitesh
