Nothing is complete when it comes down to teaching or learning.
Three years have passed since I quitted my job as a public junior high school
teacher in 2008. Curiously, there are many things I now feel understand for the
first time.
Two years ago, I posted an essay titled “From School-refuser to the Top of Japan.” In it, I wrote a tale about Ai Fukuhara, the table tennis prodigy, to shed light on a situation when a teacher finds an extraordinarily talented student in his classroom. I now know that my understanding was incomplete.
Two years ago, I posted an essay titled “From School-refuser to the Top of Japan.” In it, I wrote a tale about Ai Fukuhara, the table tennis prodigy, to shed light on a situation when a teacher finds an extraordinarily talented student in his classroom. I now know that my understanding was incomplete.
Koseki-sensei would always test new teachers with that story.
“What would you do if Ai Fukuhara were falling asleep in the midst
of your class?”
No one has ever gotten it right for the first time. When another
wrong answer is thrown on the table, he would tell me to answer instead. And,
like an already-initiated disciple, I would always give “the right answer.”
“Let her sleep.”
What good would it do to
wake her up when sitting in the classroom means little to her and her future?
Think how much impact her stories could have on others of her age. Stories
about her practice, daily schedule, invisible tactics during the games,
conditioning for a tournament, the pressure of the world... Scold her like an
ordinary teacher, and you would miss all the amazing learning opportunities for
yourself and other students.
But, all along, I had it wrong. Looking back, something didn’t feel
right as I found myself rushing through my memory to find Koseki-sensei’s words.
I knew the answer, but those words did not belong to me.
The “wide-awake” moment this summer was when I realized that “Ai
Fukuhara” was in my own homeroom class 8 years ago.
It was a girl named “Maru.”
8 long years…that was the time it took me to want to meet Maru
again. Finally, I felt ready to confront my own guilt and apologize to her for
my own incapability as her homeroom teacher. Finally, I felt I could learn from
her without an ego of a “teacher” and an “adult.”
This summer, I met Maru for a drink. It was me who reached out to
her.
Late into that night after I parted with Maru, I received an email
from Koseki-sensei, our mutual mentor.
“Got your soul purified?”
The message came with a smiley face.
“Got your soul purified?”
The message came with a smiley face.
Many thoughts rushed through my mind, and I knew that I could write
100 pages to explain without success.
In the end, I returned a one-liner:
“Today,
I had a dialogue with Maru for the first time.”(To be continued...)
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