Title : Lessons in Pupils’ Sessions
“Learning is the only thing the mind never exhausts, never fears, and never regrets.”
Leonardo da Vinci
The above quote holds value not just for young learners but old too, yes, the teachers. Teaching may not be a highly paid job; however, the rewards are intangible and often far-fetched. The best part is that, over time, not only do you excel in your teaching skills, but learning also becomes an integral part of your life. Learning while teaching – is the best of both worlds!
Over the years, I have been touched by many humbling gestures of my students. Among them three experiences still stand so distinct. Both the learners, as young as five-year-olds and fifteen, taught me valuable lessons of life.
The first one is by a bubbly, naughty-eyed Pranav. He was a tiny figure in grade one who could hardly shut his eyes during the morning circle time. However, light of his inner eye did open my eyes one day.
We had a nature walk in the school with a bunch of excited young first graders. I was drawing their attention, especially to the variously shaped leaves. Suddenly, I plucked one of the leaves from a plant to give a closer look at it. Pranav, who will mostly be in his own world, was very vigilant. He exclaimed, “Didi you annoyed a plant. Did you take its permission before plucking that leaf?” I was dumb stuck and wondered how should I correct my mistake, so I asked Pranav, “Will you teach me how to take permission from the plant?” He smiled and began, “First, you have to close your eyes and, with folded hands, request the plant to give a leaf.” The next moment, I asked for forgiveness from the plant and made it a point to never pluck the leaves of a plant without a reason. And if at all I must, I will seek permission as suggested by Pranav.
This incident changed my perception towards the plants and made me receptive towards the consciousness they possess.
The next incident that happened recently was in an online session. I was telling the meaning of a Sanskrit shloka to my young student. She told me that the meaning of the shloka says that both the student and the teacher may receive peace; however, we should be asking for peace for everyone. I was touched by her universal love and inclusiveness. Now I have improvised the meaning of the same shloka for my other students as well. And every time I tell that to the other students, I feel grateful to my little teacher.
There is one more incident where I tutored a young high school boy who was on the autism spectrum. It was a year full of anxiety for him. Unfortunately, there was no provision in his school to choose only selected subjects to appear for boards, so he was grappling with all the conventional subjects. It was tough for him; however, he was working very hard. Finally, he gave his exams and emerged a winner. I learnt a lot of perseverance and resilience from him and his mother. I did not know that he was writing a Whimpy Kid book based on his high school year experience. Finally, after the exam, he gave that to me to read. I was overwhelmed when I saw my caricature drawn on a page of the book, teaching him. He had a gift for drawing and music.
I can chronicle many such incidents, but the above three stand out, and the learnings are still etched in my heart. They come to my rescue whenever I need them.