Satchel on the back, walking to and fro, in rain and shine, with incomplete home works and indescribable fear of reprimand by subject teachers, ten years of my junior school life came to an end in 1989. End of those years meant the dawn of next school life which was strewn with different hues. My life then was exposed to different opportunities and challenges. Attending two or three classes a day, going for a walk, witnessing literary activities, watching ball games, celebrating victories with laughter and regretting at failures – it was my life with adult learners. I had seen many seniors graduating with flying colors and many coming back to redo their examinations. My own successes gave me strength to move on and hardships or failures, mostly when I could not do as much as others could do, I used to sojourn to ask myself, ‘why am I finding it difficult to do like him or her?’ or ‘why are we not born equal?’ I had endured five years of hardships and celebrated equal years of glory at Sherubtse College.
As we did not have counselor or teacher for career education, no one, not even our teachers taught us to have goals in our life. So, it was obvious, I did not have any while walking out of college. I was alone with only thought of going to meet my parents. Incidentally, upon reaching Phuentsholing, where my parents resided, I was told that Pasakha PS was in need of temporary teacher. I took advantage of that situation and availed one place as temporary teacher. It was not teaching but fun being with small kids. Listening to the narration of how their parents fought at home, how their mother scratched father like cats, how quietly they sat crouched on one corner, adorned my life with pleasure. Some described about how their brother or sister got annoyed while playing and pelted stone at them which made them come to school with bandaged head. My interest in listening to their stories soon made me their best teacher. Some of them even tried to describe me through their imperfect art and distorted words. I was stuffed with ample reasons to join teaching. Adequate or inadequate, I completed my one year of training to teach students from National Institute of Education, Samtse in 1999. I was posted to school the following year. I remember teaching classes IX and X in my first year. I was novice and nervous. I was little behind in content, experience, understanding students’ need and use of strategies when compared to other experienced colleagues. Yet, I was bent on improving any strength and increasing any energy for my students. It did not take long for me to understand that my students were my primary customers. I did work constantly.
It was during those upheavals, I had heard friends complaining of indiscipline students, of students’ poor performance, of students’ disrespect to teachers. Quite often we came together to discuss about students having drunk and fought with friends. The disciplinary actions were sanctioned depending upon the severity of offences. I had witnessed an awkward situation of some students getting thrashed black and blue by principal in the morning assembly. I had seen students getting suspended for months. However, that actions or sanctions did not dissuade others from indulging in transgressions. Much before suspended students came back from home; same forbidden actions were repeated by other students prompting teachers to meet again. It was unfortunate. I thought there must be an end to everything one day.
Three years of my teaching experiences and working attitude gave some confidence to my principal, Mr. Karma Dhendup, present Drungpa of Sombaykha, Haa, to recommend me for the post of Assistant Principal. By the grace of God and my friends’ prayer, I got through the interview and got appointed as assistant principal. Working as assistant principal for one year, I did not see much difference in my school and my work. As usual, teaching, sitting for the review meeting, discussing about poor performance of students, and talking of students with problems – the same old story. Only difference, if I may be frank, was meeting principal in his chamber directly and talk of things going on, knowing matters little earlier than other friends.
I saw dramatic change since I assumed my post of principal. Small accomplishment, victory, words of praise makes me elated and little unpleasant words about school and its inmates pricks my heart and inflicts inexplicable pain. I feel I am the real owner of my school. I fear and make constant prayer that no untoward incidence occur among students, among teachers, between teachers and students, between administration and teachers, between administration and students, and likewise between our school and other organizations. I watch and enjoy, as though I was watching scenic beauty, seeing teachers working smoothly and students ardently preparing for their lives. I get peace of mind and get peaceful sleep when no eruption of volcano-like problems, occasions where heated arguments among cross-sectional society occur. But, this prayer, even if granted, is momentary. What we wished not to happen happens – misunderstanding crops-up, students indulge in drink spree, join drugs gang, vandalize property and harbor less fear of examinations. All these make to live in constant fear and skepticism. At this juncture, I am reminded of Thomas Hardy who said: “Happiness is but an occasional episode in the general drama of pain”. Like him, I feel problem that inflicts ceaseless pain in men continues.
My other mind says that matter will turn up better one day. If our old saying, ‘everything that began has an end’ be true, even the problems encircling human beings will end. I get little assurance of this when I reflect on how some of my students got up from their revolving chairs seeing us entering, how some of them bowed down while we passed by them and how some of them even saluted us with words in their army uniform. They have realized their mistakes. The times when they were monkeying in school have long entered oblivion. They are transformed. Great work, Yonten, you must continue!
- My diary collection
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