Who dares to teach should never cease to listen By Fakhruddin Ali Ahmed Teacher International Indian School, Al Jubail Teaching, no doubt, is a noble profession. I was very much inspired by this noble profession since early in my life. The reason behind this was my family. Most of my family members were associated with this noble profession. My father's elder brother, who brought me up was a Professor of English in teachers' training college and from here grew my passion and love for this profession. After completing my Post Graduation I got a job at a mission school. I began my teaching career in July 1993. I still remember July 4, 1993, my very first day at the school as teacher. I reached school half an hour early from the stipulated time. I went to the Principal's chamber where I was given a warm welcome and was handed over a copy of my timetable. I went through it. After going through it I tremble with fear. The reason was, my first period was in a senior most class, twelfth. I was told that the class comprises of 74 students, 40 young boys and 34 young girls. I was educated in a co-education school but the mention of girls used to bring shivers in my bones. I summoned all my courage and was bounced into the class immediately after the first bell. On my left were sitting the grown up boys with moustache and budding beards and to my right were the sweet and shy girls. The class stood up and greeted me. I cleared my throat and accepted their greetings. I was to teach English there. I was trembling with fear. After a formal introduction I decided to start with English vowels and consonants. I asked them a few questions but my questions refused to reach the ears of my students. I repeatedly asked the same question but all the boys, except the girls, were busy in chatting. Seeing my pitiable condition the girls chuckled and this made me more nervous. Like a warrior in a battle front I decided to lift a piece of chalk, which at that moment seemed heavier than AK - 47, to scribble few sentences on the chalk board. I marched toward the board at the same time a small paper rocket hit me on my back. This paper rocket was thousand times more powerful than any missile. I enquired about the manufacturer of this powerful weapon but the answer I got was only suppressed laughter. The bell rang and I took a sigh of relief. The next day I entered the class more confidently and in a gruffly voice announced my arrival in the den. The students did not expect this roar from me and within few seconds the class became quiet. I immediately took over the whole class and called few late bloomers toward the board and asked them to write a few English words, which are generally misspelled by students, and as expected the late bloomers were unable to spell them. They felt insulted as they did not know the spelling of the words and apart from it the thing that hurt them the most was humiliation before the girls. I was happy that I learnt the method to control the boisterous students. No boy wanted to be called near the board and get humiliated before the girls because they wanted to remain heroes in front of them. Besides this I made my lessons more interesting and the students became my fans, later they used to wait for my period and I used to love teaching them. Today, I am in the nineteenth year of my teaching career but I can never forget my batch of those 74 students who I consider to be the base of my teaching career. __
