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.
