A Teacher's Dream

I use to be a teacher with big dreams and high hopes. A teacher, or a lecturer as I am titled, is not simply a person who deliver lessons, but also influence and incite feelings of wanting to better oneself. I have always spur myself by imagining myself to be as such. When I said I am living the life I dream of, it is the thought of that exactly.
Good communication skills is what is needed for that purpose. The ability to treat a student not as a mere student you are deemed responsible for, but rather a personal friend you love dearly for the sake of Allah, a person you love enough to want the best for him/her, by giving your all in guiding and showing him/her to the right direction. That, to each and everyone of the 30 faces you see in class, in all 9 classes. It needs good communication skills, and a heart that huge to contain all the love.

This semester

It has come to a point today I realized how little that has exactly work out for me. Usually managing to summon only enough energy to deliver the most energetic lesson I could muster, often I would sit down at the end of each lesson with great relief, as my eyes roamed over tiredly across the class. Leaving the class a few would come to sheepishly thank me, and that is when I feel I have failed. 
I barely know his name. 
And how could I failed to know the person behind that each special smile. Is that my idea of a good teacher?

Some people simply have it

I could not help but thought of a dear friend in CFS. She is so good at being students' friends, and she does it with such ease. Naturally good communication skills, and yes sadly, a huge heart which I still seem to be missing. At the end of the day, her students know how much she cares for them, whereas although I too care perhaps as much, I have not managed to make it seen. In between lack of soft skills, experience in socialising, and not having a solid heart, I deem myself now as a near-fail da'ie.

Making the best out of it

I could not fail in something I have so much passion, and faith in. For the life of me though, I do not think its possible to mend it this semester, with 270 students, while still struggling to understand the subject matter. InsyaAllah this will be the first and last semester I teach the compulsory maths paper anyway.

I found comfort when I thought of a chemistry lecturer I knew in Kolej Chermai. She never bothers to know my name and I do not recall her ever acknowledging my existence. Regardless, I have great respect and still felt immense gratitude to her. And all because she was superb at her teaching, making everything seem so easy to understand, erasing my despair and susah hati. Chemistry, my all-time least fav subject had became instead an enjoyable one with each magically solved question. She gave me the confidence, that I can be good at anything, without uttering a single word.

So there. She might not be the mother material with all the coaxing, care and motivation, but she benefited me anyway. She made me feel good about myself. And if I can't be that da'ie I wish I am yet, at least I can be someone who can make others, especially young teens who needs it, feel happy about themselves. The real 'lessons' for them come later, insyaAllah. 

One day, may Allah guide me to be that teacher I have always dreamed of.

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