This is my 8th year of teaching. All through these years, I have always gotten flowers or cards or sweet words from my kids. Even when I have squeezed their ear when not finishing their homework. Or made them standing outside the class. Or let them write the Multiplication table 50 times in their exercise book. In short, I have never encountered pupils who showed their despise toward me openly. Or in writing.
Until yesterday.
When this vandalism act was showed to me, I remember having one boy's face flashed quickly in my mind. But I realized he wasn't in the group of punished kids on that particular day. So my suspicion was narrowed down to two out of the four punished kids. However, it made no sense to me cos these kids are not the type that keep hatred in their heart. At least not that I know of them.
"Tidak apa, cikgu tidak marah. Kalau cikgu marah, cikgu memang bodoh macam yang kena tulis di dinding tu. Tapi sebenarnya, yang bodoh tu ialah orang yang menconteng dinding hanya kerana dia marah dengan cikgu."
That was all I said to them as a reply.
The rest of the kids nodded their head in agreement to my statement.
I relay this incident to my close colleagues, one of them being the class teacher of that particular class as part of my sharing of the day.
At home, I thought of this matter. I was not angry. I was more bugged by the thought that an eight year old can be so angry at me. Kids that age don't usually keep their anger long. Unless I have been scolding them too often to leave a scar in their heart. At that point, I have only one name kept repeating; the boy who flashed in my mind at first thought upon seeing the writing on the wall.
I know I have to at least interrogate the suspects. It's not about finding whose fault is it but more to let them know, writing on the wall like that is wrong. It's vandalism.
But before I did anything, my colleagues had made my interrogation easier the next day. To cut the long story short, the suspects were pinned down to one person - the same first boy I suspected.
I threatened him just to get the truth. It was wrong, in some sense but it worked. I also dig out why he was so angry at me. His answer made sense. I made peace with him, offering my apology to him for making him feel the way he felt. At the same time, I let him know what he did wrong and why I scolded him.
His tears flowing like waterfall.
I offered him tissue to wipe off his tears. Made him helped me carry my books just so I get to re-kindle our relationship on our way to the staff room. That's how it should be, right?
That was an eye opener alright.
