English Teachers Are Happy To Share

English Teachers Are Happy To Share

Random Thoughts by Pauline

April 2017
Common sense

Common sense says that we don’t use our mobile phone when we cross the street. But why are people still doing it? Don’t they have this common sense of danger?

Why is there the need for MTR to make public announcement telling passengers not to look at their mobile phone when using the escalator?  That is not the only “gentle reminder”. Others include beware slippers get caught when standing on escalator,  loosen clothing when in compartment etc.

Obviously, what makes sense to some doesn’t mean so to others. Besides, what constitutes the “common”? A dozen, a hundred or more people? These people need to have the same history or same likes and dislikes to make up “a mass”. Then they might share the same “common sense”.

This can explain why parents and their children, employers and their staff, teachers and students cannot agree on their respective “common sense”. They have to make deliberate effort to understand the other party, accommodate differences and build  ground for common sense to be nurtured.


So next time before we make a comment using “common sense” as the argument, we have to first  establish if there is anything in “common” .

Random Thoughts by Pauline

April 2017
It’s a different world now!
There was a time when we helped strangers asking for directions most readily. When neighbours knocked on  the door asking if we had an egg to spare, we happily gave a couple. Telephone lines and refrigerators, expensive luxuries then, were generously shared. Grocery store-keepers  delivered rice bags to our doors with the bill settled monthly. That was the world I grew up in. We were not rich but were generous. There were no desires but only satisfaction.

All these seem like fairy tales now!

Strangers wandering on MTR platform shy away from interaction when offered help. In public transport, seats for those in need have to be labelled as though commuters cannot decide for themselves to whom they should offer their seats. Backpackers have to be persuaded to unload. Neighbours no longer greet each other. We dare not knock on doors for help. And yet we know and let friends know about one another’s lives in details. We react with our thumbs and smileys.  There is no human touch at all. We nestle in our own isolated world comforting ourselves that we have tens and hundreds of friends.

Oh! I miss the good old days!

Random Thoughts by Pauline

April 2017
It was yesteryears once more!

“I so wanted to touch your bang then,” said Lily.

“I am sorry, Lily. I would love to let you but it’s already gone!” I said apologetically.

It was the second gathering of the 1981 graduates in nine months. There were 22 of them and two teachers including me, their revered English Language teacher. Though those attending the two events were not all the same, the fondness was abundant in both times.

These students are now in their 50s but once they started talking about the classroom days, they were teens once again. They happily reported to me that they are all successful in their own fields and that they hold their alma mater, Wellington College, a private school closed down in 2001, most dearly. They keep telling me they owe much to their teachers who were all very strict.

Then I was in my early thirties, a trained teacher with only the Advanced Level Examination as academic qualification. I was teaching around 60 periods a week with over 50 students in a class. But in their recounts, I knew I was serious with my duties and they loved me for that. 


That makes me so proud. What matters most in a teacher is not just the credential but the heart that is anchored in the welfare of the students.