<p>"If you can watch your dreams crumbling yet start from scratch and build your future all over from the start, then yours will be the world and you will be a man, my son," so went Rudyard Kipling, and I was reminded of all this and more when Grade 12 students walked out of my class on the very first day that I entered senior high. I must have shed bucket loads of tears, but it just didn’t help. So, my present back then was tense. </p>.<p>Seeing my predicament, one of my colleagues, a math teacher, consoled me, saying, "Don’t worry, Anuradha. They do the same thing to me. You will soon figure a way out." Much comforted, I wiped away my tears and trudged back home, wondering how to deal with this quagmire.</p>.<p>Days passed before, finally, the 'Eureka' moment dawned. The best way to keep them glued to their studies was to make them believe, like I did, that "learning can be fun." So now the English class was split into two: one before the break, one after. I made a deal with the students that before break we would study diligently, and after the break they would teach me basketball. So the focus on student-teacher interaction was fulfilled, as was my aim to educate. Simultaneously, I also learned the rudiments of basketball!</p>.<p>Those were truly the good old days when I taught English using a variety of resources, ranging from theatre to music, PowerPoint presentations to stick figures, poster art to recorded speeches. </p>.<p>My students were enthralled, and in their joy, I was relieved and felt blessed that I could help in however small a way. Perhaps the most touching moment was when, during one PTA meeting, I found a mother telling her daughter to touch my feet. I felt so humbled, and it only reminded me that when my children worshipped me so much, I needed to live up to their expectations.</p>.<p>Indeed, those were the days when I was ensconced in the love of a vibrant group of children. Their warmth often left me moved. If I were to pick out my most memorable day, it would have to be the day we played teacher vs. student volleyball on Teachers’ Day.</p>.<p>I loved my students and had no intention of winning against my dear children.Even as we played, I made sure the shots went right out of the court until I was sent out to be replaced by another teacher to score those winning shots. But if anyone asks me why I played the game that way, I would say, "Simple. I loved them deeply and wanted them to win. Because often, when you lose a game, you win hearts."</p>
<p>"If you can watch your dreams crumbling yet start from scratch and build your future all over from the start, then yours will be the world and you will be a man, my son," so went Rudyard Kipling, and I was reminded of all this and more when Grade 12 students walked out of my class on the very first day that I entered senior high. I must have shed bucket loads of tears, but it just didn’t help. So, my present back then was tense. </p>.<p>Seeing my predicament, one of my colleagues, a math teacher, consoled me, saying, "Don’t worry, Anuradha. They do the same thing to me. You will soon figure a way out." Much comforted, I wiped away my tears and trudged back home, wondering how to deal with this quagmire.</p>.<p>Days passed before, finally, the 'Eureka' moment dawned. The best way to keep them glued to their studies was to make them believe, like I did, that "learning can be fun." So now the English class was split into two: one before the break, one after. I made a deal with the students that before break we would study diligently, and after the break they would teach me basketball. So the focus on student-teacher interaction was fulfilled, as was my aim to educate. Simultaneously, I also learned the rudiments of basketball!</p>.<p>Those were truly the good old days when I taught English using a variety of resources, ranging from theatre to music, PowerPoint presentations to stick figures, poster art to recorded speeches. </p>.<p>My students were enthralled, and in their joy, I was relieved and felt blessed that I could help in however small a way. Perhaps the most touching moment was when, during one PTA meeting, I found a mother telling her daughter to touch my feet. I felt so humbled, and it only reminded me that when my children worshipped me so much, I needed to live up to their expectations.</p>.<p>Indeed, those were the days when I was ensconced in the love of a vibrant group of children. Their warmth often left me moved. If I were to pick out my most memorable day, it would have to be the day we played teacher vs. student volleyball on Teachers’ Day.</p>.<p>I loved my students and had no intention of winning against my dear children.Even as we played, I made sure the shots went right out of the court until I was sent out to be replaced by another teacher to score those winning shots. But if anyone asks me why I played the game that way, I would say, "Simple. I loved them deeply and wanted them to win. Because often, when you lose a game, you win hearts."</p>